


25 Days of NCT Christmas

by RinAngel



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Anthology, Christmas, M/M, Multiple Pairings, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:41:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 35,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21631594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RinAngel/pseuds/RinAngel
Summary: 25 days, 25 pairings, 25 sweet (and spicy??) winter/holiday stories :) Each story will have warnings and tags in the author's note.1. Taeyong/Ten2. Mark/Renjun3. Jeno/Jisung4. Lucas/Jungwoo5. Doyoung/Jaehyun6. Yuta/Winwin7. Mark/Jungwoo8. Jaemin/Haechan9. Taeyong/Johnny10. Renjun/Chenle11. Doyoung/Haechan12. Taeil/Yuta13. Johnny/Mark14. Chenle/Jisung15. Jaehyun/Ten16. Jaemin/Jeno17. Lucas/Winwin18. Taeil/Jungwoo19. Johnny/Renjun20. Mark/Haechan21. Taeyong/Jaehyun22. Doyoung/Taeil23. Renjun/Jaemin24. Chenle/Jeno25. Lucas/Ten
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas, Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Nakamoto Yuta, Huang Ren Jun/Mark Lee, Huang Ren Jun/Na Jaemin, Huang Ren Jun/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Huang Ren Jun/Zhong Chen Le, Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten, Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung, Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Lee Taeyong, Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Lee Donghyuck | Haechan, Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Moon Taeil, Kim Jungwoo/Mark Lee (NCT), Kim Jungwoo/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee, Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin, Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin/Park Jisung, Lee Jeno/Zhong Chen Le, Lee Taeyong/Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten, Lee Taeyong/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Mark Lee/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Moon Taeil/Nakamoto Yuta, Park Jisung/Zhong Chen Le
Comments: 93
Kudos: 752





	1. Taeyong/Ten

**Author's Note:**

> DAY 1: Taeyong/Ten - Trainees don't get the day off for Christmas, but as long as Chittaphon is with Taeyong, that's okay with him.
> 
> Rated G. Side order of Taeyong/Johnny.

Taeyong’s body moved like a well-oiled machine, without a single cog out of place. Chittaphon felt a strange and unique kind of jealousy when he watched his best friend dance-- he honestly wasn’t quite sure whether he wanted to  _ be _ Taeyong, or be  _ with  _ Taeyong. These were dangerous thoughts to have, with only months to go until they’d be debuting.

(Debuting  _ together _ , Chittaphon might add, which nearly made him swoon every time he thought about it. Imagining being apart was worse than knowing that their friendship could never be anything more, and that was what made Chittaphon certain of his feelings.)

Chittaphon hung back quietly by the edge of the practice room, watching most of the others file out. There was a different sort of energy about the trainees that day, and it was the only way you would really  _ know _ that it was Christmas. Everyone had been hard at work nearly since sunrise, despite the holiday, and anyone lucky enough to have a boyfriend or girlfriend was forced to put their relationship to the side for another grueling day of preparation. Still, their teachers had been kind enough to let them out with a few spare hours that evening. There were whisperings that a few of the trainees were going to try and go out for drinks, others would use their free time to catch up on sleep (which was in short supply for everybody), but for those who knew that their debut was imminent, the only thing on their minds was to practice.

In the next practice room over, Dongyoung and Taeil were singing, and Mark-- well, Chittaphon wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d snuck off to try to call his mother, knowing that it was Christmas morning back in Toronto. Soon enough, the practice room was empty, just himself and Taeyong, who was leaned back against the wall and wiping away the sweat dripping from his hair. Chittaphon could barely look, didn’t want to think about it too hard.

“Have you eaten, hyung?”

“Not since this morning,” Taeyong replied, pausing for a drink of water. He seemed a little more out-of-breath from practicing than usual - Chittaphon knew from memory that Taeyong would throw himself hardest into his work if he was trying not to think about something else. “I was going to go get ramen or something a little later, if you wanted to come?" He smiled slightly.

Chittaphon’s knees felt like jelly when Taeyong smiled - it made him embarrassed to speak his proposition, but he blurted it out before he could stop himself: “I have two boxed lunches. They’re from the convenience store, but… eat with me anyway?” He tried not to seem too affected by it. They were just friends, eating a meal. They ate together all the time, alone or with the others. Why was this different?

“Sure you don’t mind? All I have to offer you is water.” Taeyong grabbed his bag and sat down on the floor, taking off his hoodie and making himself comfortable.

"You don't have to give me anything. It's Christmas," Chittaphon remarked dryly, passing over one of the simply packaged sets of rice and side dishes. Nothing extravagant, but Taeyong still bowed his head humbly and thanked him. "Hey, what's up? You seem extra tired today."

"I just don't like the wintertime. It kills my mood." Taeyong poked at his food but didn't seem too drawn to eat. "And… you know, it might be nice to spend just one Christmas with a girl. I haven't since I was, like, sixteen. I feel like not dating is hard. It's lonely."

Chittaphon nodded quickly. Boy, did he feel  _ that _ sentiment.

"Did you ever date anyone?"

Chittaphon blushed at Taeyong's bluntness, thankful for the large bite he had just taken which gave him a moment to stall. Of course, they were close enough to share details like this; Chittaphon had known about the girl Taeyong dated for years in school, and even the names of the few female trainees that his friend had fancied through the years. For himself, though, that same openness was hard, and it wasn't because he thought Taeyong would be bothered--  _ but I wonder if he'd start to see this thing between us differently. After all, I can't keep my eyes off him. _

Swallowing after a moment, his mind was made up, and he answered carefully, "I had… kind of a boyfriend for a few months when I first moved to Seoul. We grew apart when my training picked up, and we didn't make it to Christmas, so…"

"A boy? Really?" Taeyong's eyebrows shot up, and he was quiet for just long enough for Chittaphon to start feeling nervous. But he was casual enough as he asked, "Are you… gay? Or…?"

"Uh-- bisexual." Chittaphon tried to match Taeyong's tone, like this wasn't something strange to be discussing openly. In the past, this was something he'd talked about with friends on the internet, people around the world like himself; in person, he'd never had many queer friends. "And this stays between us, right? No one knows…"

"Right, of course. I wouldn't do something like that," Taeyong assured him at once, seeming unbothered as he sipped some water and then passed his bottle to Chittaphon. The conversation had lulled, and the normally comfortable silence felt electric with tension - Chittaphon was racking his brain for something not awkward to say - but then Taeyong spoke again, almost an afterthought: "I liked someone when I first got here. I never told anyone…"

"Someone else?" Chittaphon asked in slight surprise, managing a smile. "Even before Kang Seulgi?" (Taeyong had admitted to liking her a year before, and the other guys still brought up his hopeless crush in jest from time to time.)

"No. Johnny, actually."

Chittaphon was so surprised, he nearly choked on a mouthful of rice. "What?! When was this?" he demanded, blushing on Taeyong's behalf. Taeyong was remarkably cool, considering everything.

"When I was new at SM. I helped him practice his Korean, he helped me adjust to the dorms. I don't know, we got close and he was really nice good-looking and-- I  _ thought _ about it." Taeyong said it almost defensively. "Fortunately, Johnny's an idiot and he never picked up on it. He’s definitely straight. But I still think-- if I wasn't where I am right now, I'd date a guy, just to try it. See what it's like."

Chittaphon was wary of responding, keeping his feelings veiled. In a matter of months, they would be groupmates, and it was best for their bond to be as strong as possible - romance seemed like a disaster prospect, even though it  _ also _ seemed like Taeyong was giving him an opening. "Do you think it's that different?"

"Yeah, of course! Guys are  _ way _ different," Taeyong insisted. "I think a lot of guys are more reserved when it comes to feelings, but… do you think guys kiss differently? I feel like… a guy would have chapped lips? And maybe you'd feel stubble or something?"

"Not always!" Chittaphon was still nervous, but excited, too. This was kind of a fun conversation. He touched his own chin curiously, though he'd shaved the day before and knew it would be smooth.  _ I wonder if he's talking about his ideal? He probably likes guys like Johnny. _ That was a little disappointing. He was about to ask, but when he glanced over at Taeyong, he had to smile; Taeyong was doing just the same as him, though touching his lips instead of his face, as if wondering how his lips would feel to another man. Neither of them had finished their meals - they sat abandoned on the practice room floor in front of them.

Romance would be a disaster ( _ potentially _ ), and yet it sounded… fun, maybe. Taeyong's lips  _ did _ look soft - and they turned up into an alluring little smirk when he caught Chittaphon looking at them.

"Not to be weird, but what if we…"

"We could kiss once and it wouldn't be weird?"

The two statements came out at the same time, getting jumbled up in one another, but at the word "kiss", Taeyong finally cracked and blushed. "Should we?" he asked apprehensively, touching his lips once more. "It feels selfish, to have you kiss me just because I'm curious…"

"You're not the only one lonely on Christmas. And we might not get many more nights to ourselves like this, once we debut…"

"Fair point." Taeyong smiled softly, cheeks still rosy, and reached to touch Chittaphon's jawline with his fingertips - boldly brushing his thumb against Chittaphon's bottom lip as if testing the waters. Chittaphon shivered in anticipation, closing his eyes, and the kiss finally came - a gentle brush of lips, more timid than he could have ever imagined Taeyong kissing. It felt like a cheat, though, all that buildup for such a tiny kiss, and so Chittaphon bravely placed a hand on the back of his neck and pulled him in closer. Taeyong's lips parted, emboldened, the tip of his tongue inviting Chittaphon to follow--

And then the practice room door burst open, and Chittaphon couldn't remember ever moving so fast. Straightening up, looking ahead, heart racing - until he saw that it was Mark, so absorbed in his phone that he couldn't even look up from the screen. "My mom transferred Christmas money into my bank account! I'm ordering pizzas right now!"

"Aw! You're so sweet!" Chittaphon hoped he didn't sound as flustered as he felt, and he had to suppress the urge to fan his face. "We just ate, but I bet we'll be hungry again if we practice a little more."

Taeyong, on the other hand - well, it was obvious, at least to Chittaphon, that he was practically _ glowing _ . Maybe Mark would just assume it was a good mood. Their eyes met once more, and Taeyong reached to give Chittaphon’s hand a quick squeeze, a smile still playing on his lips. He stood up, ran his fingers quickly through his messy black hair. "I wonder if everyone else went home? It's getting kind of late, but I want to keep going a  _ bit  _ longer…"

"I'll stay as long as you do," Chittaphon volunteered, smiling to himself as he stood up and stretched his body out. One more drink of water, and one more quick glance at his phone-- one discreet text left Chittaphon feeling much more confident than he had before, and Taeyong's phone pinged in his bag with a message that he'd see later.

_ "I really really like you  _ 🖤 _ " _


	2. Mark/Renjun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DAY 2. Mark/Renjun - Mark and Renjun are the only two international students left in their dorm building on Christmas day, when there's nothing to do BUT drink. Also, Renjun turns out to be way cooler than Mark thought possible.
> 
> Rated T - underage drinking, discussion of unsupportive parents

Mark had a very specific plan laid out for Christmas. He was going to wake up at noon. Dry cereal and Pedialyte were already in arm’s reach of his bed, because he knew he was going to be hungover as all hell. Obligatory parent phone calls, he’d get them out of the way as soon as he was able to talk coherently. Mom, home in Toronto, with her new boyfriend who was young enough to still call Mark “dude” and his two screaming children; Dad, in Seoul, awake and probably working in his office alone on Christmas night. (Mark’s functional alcoholism, along with many other of his worst traits, was a gift directly from father to son.) Talking to his dad would inevitably make Mark depressed, and he’d say a quick prayer of thanks, despite his guilt, that he was alone in California and away from  _ both _ of them,

Then, he’d get drunk.

Renjun didn’t feel any particular way about being stuck overseas for Christmas. Two weeks in the dorm by himself wasn’t bad - it would give him time to finish all his outstanding art projects and get a start on next semester’s reading. Christmas was just a day, and like any other day that he didn’t have class, he’d spend it shut in his room, drinking tea and listening to classical music while he worked. Just him and the paints, that was the way he was always happiest. Maybe he’d Skype his mom, later, once morning hit in China.

Or maybe he’d forget and get drunk.

Mark was two drinks in when he decided to make some food, that maybe getting drunk again on nothing but a couple handfuls of dry Reese’s Puffs was a bad idea. That meant a journey to the community room on his floor, which was usually pretty full of people studying or just hanging out, but was eerily empty on Christmas night. Everyone was gone, every room door on the way had been closed. Even the RA was gone. He put a pot of water on the stove to boil, and he cracked his third beer as he leaned back against the counter.

At the sound of a door down the hall closing, however, Mark quickly stowed his beer behind the microwave and out of view. Why would the school send a custodian on  _ Christmas _ of all days?

But it wasn’t a custodian who shouldered open the community room door, it was a student - a fellow international student, but one whose name escaped him. He had messy brown hair, a pale face and flawless skin, and he was wearing a navy blue sweater beneath his painter’s smock. He carried a cup of dirty water and a handful of paintbrushes, and he froze when he saw Mark there by the sink, like a deer at the sound of a twig snapping in the forest.

So Renjun wasn’t alone. This guy looked older, and definitely not the type that Renjun usually associated with, but  _ certainly _ the type Renjun  _ wished _ he could associate with. Earrings. Sexy bedhead. Shoulders bared in nothing but a black undershirt, the beginnings of a winding tattoo sleeve on his bicep. Red and yellow roses. Renjun smiled.

“Hi,” the other guy greeted first, reaching for something behind the microwave. A can of Heineken. Probably stowed it there when he heard him coming, but then realized that Renjun posed no threat. (His mom always preached the dangers of alcohol to him, but she was a hypocrite with the flask that she hid in the high-up spice cupboard, and she would have been naive to think that he didn’t have a hidden bottle of good American liquor in his mini fridge.)

“Hi.” Renjun kept his focus down on his brushes, washing them one by one under the faucet. Guys like Mark always flustered him, and when Renjun was flustered, it tended to be obvious.

He seemed woefully disinterested in Mark, but Mark couldn’t help but check him out anyway. He’d seen this guy before, they’d taken art history together the previous semester, but it had been a big lecture group. All he remembered was that he was Chinese, and that he had a seemingly endless collection of oversized sweaters, which he wore year round.

“Have you been here all break?” Mark questioned, taking another gulp of his beer. “I thought I was all by myself. Hey, what’s your name again?”

“I’ve been here, but I’ve been busy working,” he said simply, finally looking at Mark and catching his eyes. His expression was well-guarded, but his lips had a natural smile to them. “I’m Renjun.”

Ahh, Renjun. The name their professor had butchered all semester long. “Renjun, that’s right. Cool. I’m Mark.”

How did he do that so easily, so casually? Renjun could never have worked up the courage to ask Mark’s name -  _ Mark _ , he filed away for later,  _ at least that’s easy. _ “You couldn’t go home, either?” Renjun asked, squeezing the clean brushes dry with a rag.

“Nah. I’m from Toronto. I’d have to fly, and… I didn’t feel like it.” Mark shrugged. “How ‘bout you? It must be hard to live overseas. Do you get home much?”

“Over the summers,” Renjun responded, shrugging. “It’s okay. My family isn’t that close.”

Mark nodded in understanding, finally turning to tend to his boiling water - pouring in little noodles from a blue box. Renjun figured the conversation was over, but then Mark asked, “Have you eaten?”

Had he eaten? As if his body had been waiting all along for that question, his stomach gurgled. In true American college kid fashion, he had nothing in his room but Pop-Tarts and gummy worms, and he hadn’t been able to stomach the thought of going out. “No,” he admitted, feeling his cheeks heat up, “But I’m okay. I slept really late today, so that’s kind of why…”

“Do you want mac and cheese? And beer?” Mark lifted the Heineken. “I drank alone yesterday, and I’m pretty sure if you drink alone two days in a row, that makes you an alcoholic.”

So that was how Mark ended up with Renjun’s room number - pretty smooth, in his own professional opinion. Once everything was ready, he made his way down the hall to room 355, a bowl of mac and cheese in each hand and a backpack full of beer hanging off his shoulder. Renjun let the door swing open into an artist’s wonderland - easel set up by the window, desk covered in supplies, half finished canvases everywhere he looked. Messy but beautiful.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Renjun said instantly, almost reflexively, sitting cross-legged on his bed so that Mark could have the desk chair.

“Yeah, well. Like I said, being  _ actually _ alone today is weird.” He unzipped his bag and pulled out two more beers, offering one to Renjun. “Drink with me so I feel better. My parents are Catholics, they raised me better than this.”

Renjun frowned a little, refusing the beer - which made Mark feel like a degenerate, until Renjun reached for the mini-fridge beside his bed and pulled out a half-full bottle of Casa Noble. “I don’t like the taste of alcohol, so if I’m going to drink, I have to do it fast, like this.” He took a swig from the bottle, and then passed it Mark’s way, adding apologetically, “I don’t have any shot glasses. I never have anyone to drink with.” He didn’t even have a roommate, Mark observed with jealousy. “Also, sorry if I’m boring. I’m not used to interaction. You’re the first face-to-face human I’ve seen in like 5 days.”

Mark laughed. “I invited myself here, didn’t I? If anything, I’ll entertain  _ you _ .”

Mark could entertain just by existing, with looks like those. Renjun wanted to tell him that he was perfectly content with Mark just sitting close by and being  _ aesthetic _ , but that seemed rude. Anyway, maybe it was just the tequila making him say this, but Mark was unexpectedly funny, too. “Dude, I wish I could do any sort of art. I’m an English major. That feels like a cop-out.”

“Writing is art, I think,” Renjun declared, nursing the bottle of tequila while he worked on a new piece. It was abstract, splotches of color bleeding into each other. Something low-pressure to pass the time while he drank. “Besides, that tattoo is really great. Did you design it?”

“As if. One of my friends drew it for me. I want to extend it down my arm, though,” Mark chuckled. “Wanna hear the horrible part, though? My mom still hasn’t seen it in person. I sent her a picture from the tattoo parlor once it was all done, and she was furious.”

Ah, Renjun could almost relate. He laughed softly, and when Mark gave him a quizzical look, he set aside his brush so he could roll up his left sleeve. There, just below the bend of his elbow, was a small, simple tattoo. A rainbow. No outline, subtle. Maybe it was vain, but every time he looked at it on himself, he loved it all over again. “I got this last year. My mom still has never seen it, and I’m going to keep it that way for as long as I can.”

“Wow. Cool!” Mark reached out to run his finger over the tattoo, unafraid. It was a reassurance for Renjun, the lack of judgment, though Mark’s next statement was cryptic. “I never would have expected it from you, you know.” Having a tattoo, or having  _ this _ tattoo?

“I want more,” Renjun admitted, his accent becoming more pronounced as he lost his concentration. It was harder to measure his drinks, when he was swigging straight from the bottle, but Renjun was also smaller than Mark and probably had less of a tolerance. Either way, Mark didn’t see where his paint brush had ended up, but suddenly Renjun was laying on the bed with his eyes closed, easel abandoned. “I’m gonna design myself a back piece, one of these days.”

“I have another one. Only a couple of girls have seen it,” Mark replied with a little smile. He had to throw that on, to reaffirm himself, because he’d been looking at Renjun way too closely. “But, like… I’m probably drunk enough to show you.”

“Oh my God. Please show me.” Renjun onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. “Is it on your butt?”

“No. Close.” Mark grinned, joining him on the bed and unbuttoning his pants. He carefully wiggled down the waistband of his jeans and his underwear, trying not to show  _ too _ much - just the simple tattoo on his hipbone of a crescent moon. “It’s a stick-and-poke. I got it when I lived in Toronto, when I was like sixteen. Me and my friends got stoned and thought it would be a good idea.”

“Hm.” Much to Mark’s surprise, Renjun reached out to poke it with his index finger. “I like it.” Seemingly recovered a bit, he sat up and suggested, “I wanna show you some tattoo stuff I drew. You should tell me what looks cool.”

“You  _ draw _ , too?”

“Mhm.” Renjun looked woozy as he stood to get his colored pencils and sketch book from atop his desk, and Mark couldn’t keep from giggling at his determination. He opened up to a page in the middle, in which he’d sketched out the vague shape of a human torso, with a detailed tattoo of a pair of angel wings. The colors were what really made it pop: baby blues, pinks and lavenders, a few stray lines of rich indigo popping here and there. He could only imagine how much work would go into making it a real tattoo.

“That’s  _ sick _ , dude.” Mark spoke in awe. Renjun looked at him curiously, and he chuckled, translating for himself, “It’s really,  _ really _ good. I like it a lot.” He reached to turn the page himself, and the next sketch was of a dream catcher, with feathers and beads of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple. “The rainbow stuff… really dope.”

_ The rainbow stuff _ was going to just  _ stay _ as such, as far as Renjun was concerned. He’d already had to explain himself to his parents, why should he go through it again? He was going to just stay silent, but then Mark continued, softly, “I kissed a guy once. One of my friends in high school. It was kind of weird. We never talked about it again.”

“Oh…” Renjun’s stomach pulsated with butterflies, and he knew he was flushed with more than just the alcohol. Suddenly, he became  _ acutely _ aware of the fact that there was a  _ boy _ in his bed. “I’ve honestly never kissed a guy. I just… want to.”

“Never?” Mark asked, eyebrows raised. “Why? I mean, not to be weird, but you’re  _ very _ fucking cute.”

“Because I don’t talk to that many people. People make me anxious.” It sounded like a cop-out of an answer.

“Am I making you anxious?” Mark questioned curiously.

“A little. But I sort of like it.” Renjun squeezed his eyes shut again. Anxiety and drunk didn’t mix well. It felt like his world was spinning, until Mark took his hand. Mark was like an anchor.

“What if I kissed you?” Mark was smiling when Renjun peeked back at him. Smiling like he was fucking  _ serious _ . “Would that be okay?”

_ That would be more than okay. That would be perfect. Why are you asking me and not kissing me right fucking now? _ Renjun bit back the reflexive answer, and instead, he gave a shy nod. Instinct was to close his eyes, but he didn’t want to miss a single thing about the moment, the way Mark looked into his eyes and gently ran a finger along Renjun’s jaw before he closed the distance between them.

Mark hoped he didn’t taste too much like shit beer, hoped Renjun wasn’t offended by how chapped his lips were, hoped it didn’t feel too weirdly intimate to wrap his arm around Renjun’s waist. Renjun was tense and nervous, but his lips were sinfully soft, and he seemed to gain confidence as he brushed the tip of his tongue against Mark’s bottom lip. Their mouths melted together, and Mark got goosebumps when he heard Renjun quietly moan.

It was only when they broke apart that Mark realized he’d been holding his breath - too drunk to multi-task, he decided, kissing and breathing at the same time was just too hard. Though their lips parted, Renjun didn’t attempt to move away, or even to disengage Mark’s arm from around him. He settled in close like it was the most natural thing in the world, even though Mark could feel their hearts racing, side by side.

“So… what? Is it the alcohol, or do we actually like each other?” Mark had to crack the silence with a joke, even with their lips still just centimeters apart.

“I think there’s only one way to find that out.” Renjun smiled sleepily. “We have to see each other tomorrow. Think you have time in your busy schedule to join me for lunch?”

“You’re the only thing on my calendar for the next two weeks, until class starts again. You can see me whenever you want,” Mark promised, and he had a feeling that would be the truth.

“Good. I’m glad.” Renjun snuggled close, hands tentatively finding Mark’s chest and pressing into him for warmth. “You can stay here for the night. If you want. No pressure. If you do, you should keep kissing me, though.” He tilted his face up to look in Mark’s eyes, their noses bumping gently.  _ He’s too fucking cute _ . Kissing him, that went without saying.

Mark couldn’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else. Funny enough, if he could have, Mark only would have changed his own level of intoxication; he wished he’d drunk a bit less, so that he could remember every detail of that kiss. (Still, he didn’t stress too hard - he had a feeling there would be more.)


	3. Jeno/Jisung

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DAY 3. Jeno/Jisung - All Jeno wants for Christmas is to share his first real love with his family. Park Jisung is just too wonderful for him to keep a secret.
> 
> Rated G - mentions of homophobia, unsupportive parents

“Are you still sulking in here?” Jeno’s mother didn’t even bother to hide the disapproval from her voice as she stood in the doorway of his bedroom. It was 4 PM, the light outside was beginning its premature dimming to evening, and Jeno had done nothing with his day aside from cracking a textbook and pretending to read while he browsed Twitter on his phone. He was still in his pajamas, and by this point, why bother changing?

“I’m not sulking. I’m resting. I have the day off.”

His mother sighed. She knew better - they were a close-knit family, after all, himself and his mother and sister. Their little townhouse was  _ barely _ a three-bedroom, with Jeno’s space more like a half-bedroom, if he had to label it. They saw a lot of each other, and in a space like that, there were no secrets. (He was a twenty-one year old college student still living there rent-free, so it wasn’t like he could complain.) Two days before, he’d been asking her if it was okay to bring his new boyfriend over for dinner on Christmas. Now there was no mention of said new boyfriend, and Jeno was sulking and alone.

“Will you take the dog out, please? It’s a warm night. A walk might make you feel better.”

“I feel fine,” he insisted, though he sat up anyway, running his fingers through his hair. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll go. Give me a second.”

Once she’d gone, closing the door behind her, Jeno got out of bed and pulled on some clean clothes, jeans and an oversized hoodie - one of Jisung’s, he thought, with a sort of bitterness. It smelled like him, subtly masculine, with notes of the outdoors mixed with his boyfriend’s body wash. He knew he shouldn’t, but putting it on made him begrudgingly grab his phone, opening up the conversation thread to check for a message he somehow missed. Nope, just the same as he’d left it the night before.

_ [5:06 PM] Jeno: so you don’t want to come anymore? Is that what you’re saying? _

_ [5:11 PM] Jisung: I’m really sorry _

_ [5:11 PM] Jisung: I’m nervous… _

_ [5:12 PM] Jeno: you have no reason to be _

_ [5:13 PM] Jisung: we can go to noraebang or something?? ;; _

_ [5:20 PM] Jeno: you told me a week ago that it was okay. You seemed excited to meet my family. I don’t understand what changed. _

_ [5:22 PM] Jeno: not all parents are like yours _

After that, radio silence. Jeno shouldn’t have said it, he knew, but he was hurt, and sometimes his instinct when he was hurt was to hurt back. It hadn’t brought him any sort of satisfaction, though, only the sensation of six months of dating, slipping through his fingers.

“Goldie, come on,” he called as he stepped out into the hallway, and his little golden-brown poodle (actually his sister’s) rushed to his heels, little tail wagging excitedly. Jeno felt a little disoriented, and it took him an extra second to descend the stairs; maybe his mom was right and some fresh air would be good.  _ And I’ll leave my fucking phone here. _ It was hard, but he pushed his bedroom door open and tossed his phone back into his nest of pillows, just for a little while.

_ Maybe when I come back, I’ll apologize. _

Grabbing his winter coat and Goldie’s leash, he suited up for the outside there in the kitchen. His mother was still cooking like they were expecting company, he noted with dismay, but when she saw him, she explained away simply: “I thought I’d make  _ buldak _ . Food makes everything better, right?”

_ Not everything _ , but Jeno didn’t want to argue just to be difficult. His mother meant well, and that had to count for something, because he knew that not all of them did. He was still mulling this over as he stepped outside into the clear night. The moon shined brightly, and though it was only slightly chilly, snow was falling sparsely, glittering on the naked trees that lined the sidewalk.

While Jeno was close with his mother, close enough to tell her anything and expect nothing but love in return, he knew precious little about Jisung’s family, and that was by design. He hadn’t seen his parents since he was seventeen, he told Jeno once when he was pressed, and he seemed nervous to divulge,  _ “We have a lot of differences of opinion. My parents don’t agree with my lifestyle, or with my choice to study music. That’s why I’m here on scholarship.” _

Jisung had a cozy apartment closer to campus, a noisy roommate named Chenle, and the world’s chillest cat. He had to work his weekends away at the convenience store down the road, but he seemed happy, and even Chenle was adamant that Jisung smiled the most when Jeno was there. They’d gotten remarkably close; on the nights before Jeno’s weekly 8 AM dance class, he would crash in Jisung’s bed, they would wake up together at ass o’clock in the morning (Jeno would have to press his cold feet up against Jisung’s bare legs in order to encourage him to wake up and shower), and they’d have a quick cup of coffee together before Jeno had to trudge out to campus. Jisung always sent him away with a boxed lunch (or at the very least, leftover takeout), and would say goodbye with the sweetest kisses, leaving him grinning like a fool through his grueling dance warm-ups.

Maybe they didn’t always see eye to eye, maybe they had radically different mindsets, but Jeno was ninety-nine percent sure he loved that boy.

The walk around the block did little to clear Jeno’s head, so he took Goldie for another lap - why not? At least the dog seemed to be enjoying it, racing ahead as far as the leash would allow. On the way back to the apartment, however, she pulled even harder and began to yap, and Jeno realized suddenly that it was because of the person sitting on the steps, fixated on his phone. Jeno would have recognized him anywhere; despite himself, his heart began to race.

“What are you doing here?” Jeno asked, feeling a little apprehensive as he got within speaking distance of Jisung. His boyfriend stood up suddenly, meeting his eyes, and Jeno’s heart sank when he saw that Jisung was crying. No answer at first, just an audible sniffle as he embraced Jeno quickly in a warm, tight hug, ignoring Goldie as he jumped at his legs and vied for attention. His cheek, pressed against Jeno’s, was wet with tears and freezing cold.

“I tried to call you,” Jisung whispered. “You didn’t pick up. I thought you were still mad, and-- I changed my mind. I’m-- I’m  _ fucking _ sorry, hyung.”

Jeno squeezed him tight in return, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “It’s cold! Did you walk all the way here?!”

“I ran,” Jisung confirmed, hiccuping. Jisung had cried on him a few times (a sappy movie was usually enough to do it), but never before had Jeno felt him crying so hard, and despite his anger before, it awoke every protective instinct he had.

“You don’t need to be sorry. I know things are different with your family than mine…” He pulled back to wipe Jisung’s tears with the sleeve of his hoodie, kissing the cold tip of his nose. “Just… my mom has known about you from the beginning, and I wanted her to finally meet you. I’ve met  _ every _ guy my older sister has ever dated, and she’s only ever seen pictures of you. You’re important to me, and so are they. I wanted to share you with them. That’s why it… kind of hurt when you backed out at the last second.”

“And I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to handle being here,” Jisung admitted softly, leaning into all of Jeno’s loving little touches. When he was sad, he was even more thirsty for affection, something Jeno had never been able to refuse him. “Sometimes even hearing the word ‘mom’ is a lot for me.”

“I know,  _ jagi _ . I wasn’t thinking that way…”

“...and then I was wondering if your family would even like me,” Jisung mumbled, shaking off his tears, trying to pull himself together.

Jeno nearly laughed at the absurdity of this. “They’re going to adore you.  _ I  _ adore you.” The admission made Jeno’s mouth go dry, because as close and affectionate as they were, they’d skirted around that word,  _ the L word _ . Jeno had felt it for awhile, though, the warmth and lightness in his chest whenever Jisung was in his arms. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been in love before; with Jisung, he became more certain by the day.

Beginning to relax, Jisung leaned down to greet Goldie at last; fierce as she’d tried to be at first, she turned into her usual baby self when Jisung scratched her behind the ear, and when he scooped her up to lift her off the ground, she went limp, only her tail wagging. “I’m glad someone does!”

“Yeah, well, Goldie loves everyone.”

“Way to make me feel special!” Jisung stuck his tongue out at Jeno, and then surprised him with a kiss, touchingly shy. “I love you,” he whispered when he pulled away, as though it were some secret between them. It was enough to remind Jeno that Jisung  _ was _ barely nineteen, that he’d never had a relationship before, but that he was incredibly brave.

“I love you, too. No more tears,” Jeno whispered back, forehead resting comfortably against Jisung’s; Goldie took no issue to being sandwiched between their two warm bodies. “Do you… want to come inside, then? Mom’s cooking dinner still. She’ll be happy you made it…”

“If you promise me that everything will be okay.” It was a childish demand, maybe even an impossible one, but it made Jeno smile.

“I promise.” Jeno smiled, wiping away one last stray tear from Jisung’s cheek. “Come on. You’re so cold! Let’s get you some coffee, okay?”

“Okay, hyung.” Jisung must have still been scared, but he didn’t falter, keeping close to Jeno as his boyfriend led him up the steps and out of the cold.


	4. Lucas/Jungwoo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DAY 4. Lucas/Jungwoo - Yukhei has to work late on Christmas, in conflict with Jungwoo's holiday date plans.
> 
> Rated T - sexy, but not explicit

_ “Hellooooooo, my love!” _

Yukhei usually melted at the sound of Jungwoo’s voice on the phone, but this was not the time. He could see his own breath as he loaded up the newest stack of pizzas on the back of his shitty motor bike, and his fingers had long since gone numb. Of course, that meant that every time he returned to the restaurant and entered the hot kitchen, they would ache and burn, and the snow stuck to his beat-up boots would melt just a little bit more into his drenched socks.

“Hey, I have bad news. I’m going to be a little late getting home tonight. Mark never showed up for his shift. The boss is having a fit.”

_ “What? But you should already be on your way by now. It’s past eight,” _ Jungwoo pointed out, as though that weren’t the problem to begin with.  _ “Tell him you have to go. Tell him it’s Christmas.” _

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure he knows it’s Christmas. I’m pretty sure that’s why it’s been so busy.” Yukhei answered, holding the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he slid his hands back into his worn leather gloves. “Who the fuck orders pizza as their Christmas dinner, I couldn’t tell you.” He knew that his anger with the customers was misplaced, and he was trying not to let it show with each delivery; none of  _ them _ knew that he had a gorgeous boyfriend waiting for him in a warm apartment with a Christmas tree in the window. “Anyway, I’m doing my best. I’m going to deliver this next round, and if Mark still hasn’t showed up when I get back, I’m going to tell them that they need to call someone else.”

Jungwoo let out a sigh.  _ “I have your Christmas present here. It’s time sensitive. Please hurry.” _

“Shit. All right, got it. I’ll speed!”

_ “Don’t you dare speed!” _

Yukhei grinned. He’d had a rough life, if he had to be honest, and there were plenty of times when he’d felt like no one cared - but if there was one thing he could count on, it was that Jungwoo cared, no matter what. “I love you! I promise I’ll see you soon!”

//

Yukhei left the restaurant a full forty-five minutes past his scheduled time, and all his boss could think to offer him in compensation was a free pizza. Was he supposed to be happy when he had eight hours of pizza-smell ingrained in his clothes? Hey, it wasn't like he was going to turn it down, anyway. Normally, he walked home, but for the sake of time, he hailed a cab.

_ [9:42 PM] Yukhei: fuck fuck fuck I'm so sorry _

_ [9:45 PM] Yukhei: be there in 10 with pizza _

_ [9:46 PM] Yukhei: did I ruin everything? _

_ [9:53 PM] Yukhei: babeeee _

_ [9:55 PM] Yukhei: I'm going to cry _

Yukhei didn't bother knocking when he got there. They'd been together for two years, knocking was for amateurs. He did kick off his drenched boots at the door and toss the pizza on the kitchen counter, before peeking into the living room and promptly bursting into laughter.

The small Christmas tree was set up by the window, adorned with twinkling yellow Christmas lights and lovely glass bulbs. The angel on top was Yukhei's special touch ("For my angel," he'd declared without shame, laughing while Jungwoo cringed). And there on the floor, naked but for some strategically draped ribbon and tinsel-wound handcuffs, was Jungwoo, too flushed and flustered to play as sexy as he'd probably planned.

"You were supposed to be home at 9:15! Do you know how long this took to set up perfectly?" Jungwoo tried to scowl, but Yukhei's laughter had infected him almost instantly. "I'm your present! I'm giving myself to you," he whined, wiggling on the carpet. "I can't believe you're laughing at me. I thought it was pretty fucking romantic."

"I think it's amazing! I'm only sorry I wasn't home sooner and that you had to wait all this time," Yukhei assured him, kneeling beside him and leaning down to kiss him. "You are  _ beyond _ adorable."

"I am  _ beyond _ hungry. The keys are on the coffee table, get these things off of me and feed me pizza. I told you it was time sensitive!"

"I told you a million times that I'm sorry! Actually that was all through text, so you probably didn't see that." Yukhei kissed Jungwoo's forehead once more before grabbing the handcuff keys and fumbling to unlock his wrists. "I really am sorry. If I'd known what you were planning, I would have told my boss that it was a family emergency or something!" He let the handcuffs dangle from his fingers, unable to keep from smirking as he teased, "Didn't know you were this kind of pervert."

"Yeah, well, there's a lot of things you don't know about me. Like how I'm going to fuck up literally that  _ entire _ pizza right now." Even so, when Jungwoo sat up and cast off the ribbons and garland decorating his body, the first thing he went for was not the pizza but Yukhei's wind-burned face; he cupped his cheeks gently in his palms and kissed his lips tenderly. "My poor baby. Do you want to go take a hot bath together? I bought some champagne for tonight… it was supposed to be post-sex champagne, but I don't see why we can't just have it now, and have the sex tomorrow morning, so I can at least send you back into that hellhole you work in with a smile on your face."

Yukhei grinned, affectionately brushing the glitter and tinsel from Jungwoo's hair. "This is why I love you, you know."

“Oh, I _do_ know.” Jungwoo smiled softly, that trademarked mix of innocent and devious that made Yukhei melt every time. “Carry me to the bath, though,” he demanded softly, pouting, and Yukhei might have been dead tired, but for Jungwoo, he found the strength.


	5. Doyoung/Jaehyun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DAY 5. NCT's Doyoung has just performed his first ever solo concert, on Christmas eve. Kim Dongyoung has just made a sudden revelation about how much his boyfriend fuels his love songs.
> 
> Rated G. Lyrics SHAMELESSLY stolen from "Never Change" by Kimberley Chen, please check her out she's lovely :)

_ “One day I'll take you away, _

_ Kiss you and call you my baby. _

_ Somewhere in the sky, somewhere we can fly, _

_ Somewhere where we won't need to run and hide...” _

Dongyoung was usually good at containing his emotions whenever he performed with NCT, but having the stage to himself was a whole other concept. For three nights in a row, it was just him onstage by himself, not worrying about dancing or fanservice or running around the stage like a lunatic with the boys that had become his family; that was all well and good, but the chance to show off his talent, his songs, without all the bells and whistles was humbling.

Humbling, too, was the final day of the concert being on Christmas eve. The low-lit ambience of the stage was the perfect mood, and spotting so many couples in the audience that was usually full of screaming girls, it made the love songs flow perfectly.

And so Dongyoung cried at the end of his last song on his last night, and the fans cried and “aww”-ed, and he kept his mouth shut and let them think it was all for them. How could he explain the truth? That he’d been singing empty love songs for years, and that finally, he was in a place in his life where the lyrics felt  _ full? _ He wiped his tears and called out his thank yous to the fans, all the while anxious to return home for the night.

After the show, the stagehands and staff were all quick to praise him and tell him what an amazing job he’d done - someone even offered to pay for a noraebang room so they could go celebrate the holidays with some drinks - but Dongyoung was too mesmerized by the sight beyond his dressing room door. A bouquet of roses,  _ far _ more than twelve of them, crammed in a vase so small they barely fit. Instantly, he was grinning like a fool.

“Who are these from? A fan?” He picked them up gingerly, taking a moment to inhale their sweet scent.

“Jaehyun stopped by. He said he didn’t have to stay for the whole show, but he wanted to congratulate you anyway.”

Dongyoung smiled to himself, hiding it in the petals of the flowers. His Jaehyun, always looking out for him, always knowing just what to do to make everything  _ perfect. _ He said nothing more - now more than ever, he felt obliged to get home.

It was approaching midnight by the time he finally arrived back at the UN Village - he was nearing his 28th birthday, and though the younger members still dormed together, he’d opted for his own place two years back. He was busy most every day, but during the rare moments of peace, he didn't want eight people piled on top of him.

He was hardly surprised to find the door already unlocked, though, and the ambient, flickering light in the living room that had to be from candles. It was all incredibly beautiful, and his chest felt tight with emotion and warm with romance, but he still giggled when he glanced down and noticed the sprinkled rose petals under his sock feet, leading him into the living room. There, Jaehyun sat on the couch, already pouring two glasses of fizzing champagne.

“Merry Christmas,  _ jagi _ ,” Jaehyun stood to greet his lover with a kiss, pulling him in close - the feeling of those strong arms around him made Dongyoung want to melt, every time. He still felt like he was in the throes of an obsessive new romance, not a relationship that had gone on for nearly a year and a half. Every spare moment, he wanted Jaehyun with him. The man still dormed with the other members, but more often than not, he slept there with Dongyoung, sharing his bed.  _ Maybe it’s dangerous, but he’s worth being selfish over. _ Dongyoung believed that quite firmly. “I hope you liked the flowers? I couldn’t remember if you liked roses.”

“You got them for me, so of course I like them.” Dongyoung grinned, setting the flowers aside so he could hug Jaehyun more properly. "You didn’t stay through the whole show this time? You missed me crying like a fool at the end…”

“Aww?” Jaehyun’s thumbs brushed Dongyoung’s cheekbones, as if trying to wipe away residual tears. “Crying because you were happy, I hope?”

“Crying because every love song I sing makes me think of you.”

“You’re such a sap.” Jaehyun smiled, kissing his favorite place, right in the middle of Dongyoung’s forehead. “I love you.  _ So _ much…”

“Do you?”

“You  _ know _ I do! You just like to hear me say it!” Jaehyun grinned, kissing Dongyoung’s forehead as he let him go. “Let’s drink this champagne before it gets warm. By the way, this is all a congratulations present for your concert-- you still haven’t told me what you want for Christmas tomorrow, so think about it overnight, okay?”

Dongyoung made himself comfortable on the couch, waiting for Jaehyun to sit so he could cuddle up with him. “I already know what I want.”

“And what’s that?”

Dongyoung turned to kiss Jaehyun on the cheek. “Move in with me,” he proposed softly, cheeks burning. “I want you to wake up next to me every morning. I want us to come home after our schedules and have this alone time together. It’s so nice…”

Jaehyun’s long fingers nestled themselves in Dongyoung’s hair, massaging his scalp out of habit. “Feels a little like we’re a married couple, doesn’t it?”

There was that word - Dongyoung had thought it a time or two, but hearing that Jaehyun was thinking it too, he shivered with pleasure. “Yeah,” he answered softly, glancing at his boyfriend with a somehow renewed shyness. “I don’t care if our staff like it. Or--  _ anyone _ , for that matter. I  _ love _ you. We might be idols, but I think we’re entitled to our own little bit of domestic bliss, don’t you?”

“I wholeheartedly agree. I want to keep you to myself from time to time, you know…” Jaehyun’s fingers were pure magic; Dongyoung was already tired, and Jaehyun petting him was relaxing him into pure mush. “Will you sing for me?  _ Just _ for me, like you used to when we were trainees?”

Dongyoung was unable to keep from smirking.  _ When we were trainees, and I was still so madly in love with you. _ “What should I sing?” he asked.

“I want to hear the song that made you cry,” Jaehyun replied with a small chuckle. “Maybe it’s self-indulgent, but I want to know what songs make you think of me…”

Dongyoung laughed, slightly taken aback by the request. “I’m going to cry again. I hope you know that.”

“That’s okay. You can cry on me.”

Dongyoung shut his eyes, sipped his champagne to loosen up his choked-up throat. He wanted to freeze the moment, the domestic bliss that they’d found.

_ “Cause I really wanna take you away, _

_ Cause I wanna walk with you into space, _

_ And pick all the stars in the sky _

_ And put them all on your face _

_ Cause I won't let you change, never change…” _


	6. Yuta/Winwin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DAY 6. Their studio apartment is barely big enough for a Christmas tree, but Yuta finds a way to make it work.
> 
> Rated G-ish, mentions of sex

Yuta didn’t have much, but he had what he needed in Sicheng’s love. It sounded stupid and cheesy, but it was absolutely true. Yuta felt like he had a hundred percent more than he had a year ago, when he was all alone but for a boy on a computer screen. Sicheng was physically with him now, and after two years of dating long-distance, Yuta simply didn’t think he could go back.

When they’d met, it had been in a video game, of all places. Sicheng had lived in Seoul since high school as an idol trainee, and as a young man of twenty, he’d left his company to try his luck as a model instead. Yuta was lost and bored during his gap year before grad school, and picked up gaming to fill the early morning hours when his insomnia hit him the hardest. Pure whim was what made him decide to join a Korean League of Legends server (to brush up on the Korean he’d taken in high school). It was just supposed to be for a game or two, but ended up being a permanent settlement. Yuta fell into the snare of Sicheng’s quiet charm, that’s what it felt like, and before he knew it he was head over heels.

It seemed like they were made for each other, with the only problem being the distance between them. For months, it was a point of stress for Yuta; he just wanted to be wherever Sicheng was, but he couldn’t ask his boyfriend to give up his home and his career - so when he finished grad school, walking out into the world with an anthropology degree he had  _ no idea _ what to do with and no obligations left in Japan, it seemed like the perfect time to cut loose and put himself where he was meant to be. He and Sicheng were all moved in together on the eve of Sicheng’s twenty-second birthday, and they celebrated with a nice dinner and a fancy wine that they could neither pronounce nor afford.

Their apartment in Seoul was tiny, and that was even compared to all the  _ other _ apartments in Seoul. All of Yuta’s friends at least had proper rooms. Theirs was a studio: a single room, a bit bigger than the college dormitory Yuta remembered, crammed tight with a couch and TV, a tiny kitchenette, a double bed, and a huge wardrobe for the both of them. The bathroom, of course, was separate, but everything else was together and  _ cramped _ .

That was what inspired the smallest Christmas tree of all time. It was December 23rd, and the couple didn’t have a single thing in the way of Christmas decorations around their apartment due to space constraints. Sicheng hadn’t seemed particularly bothered when Yuta brought it up; only giving him a sad sort of smile and a shrug. “It would be nice if we could, since it’s our first Christmas together. But it can’t really be helped.”

Yuta had spent the day slogging away at his desk like usual - he taught Japanese at a local high school, an utterly thankless role that often brought him home late and exhausted. But he spent his lunch break researching it, anyway,  _ tiny christmas trees. _ And that was when he remembered that  _ bonsai trees _ were a thing.

When he stepped into the apartment that night with his precious purchase cradled carefully in his arms, Sicheng was just where he’d expected - curled up on the couch, PlayStation controller in hand. Some things really didn’t change. He raised a hand in greeting, pausing his game when he realized that Yuta was carrying something out of the ordinary. First surprise crossed his eyes, then recognition - and then he began to laugh.

“What’s so funny? We needed a tree for our first Christmas together,” Yuta said firmly, setting it in the middle of their tiny coffee table. “It fits! And it’s cute. They had little kits at this local greenhouse, so I have some tiny Christmas lights and stuff we can put on it.”

“Oh my God,  _ Yuta--”  _ Sicheng couldn’t stop grinning, setting the controller aside completely as he scooted forward to perch on the edge of the couch and inspect their little tree. “This is perfect.  _ Actually  _ perfect.”

“Isn’t it? The cutest, tiniest Christmas tree for the cutest, tiniest boy.”

Sicheng’s mouth twitched into a little smile. “I’m taller than you!” Even so, the sentiment must have landed the right way, because Sicheng pulled Yuta down onto the couch with him and gave him a big kiss on the cheek. “You’re too good to me. You work too hard.”

Yuta chuckled. “Need I remind you who bought my plane ticket and opened up their home to me?”

“You mean, my  _ closet _ ?”

“It sure feels like a home to me!” Yuta remarked, pulling out the packaged decorations for Sicheng to help him open. “I think I told you this when I first moved in - home for me is wherever you are.” Yuta wasn’t close with his parents, he didn’t have many close friends in Japan; Sicheng really had become his lifeline.

“Yeah, well… someday, I’m going to have a lot more money. And then I’m going to give you everything you deserve.” Sicheng’s expression was a little sullen as he said this, but he brightened up as he tagged on, “Then you won’t have to work in a high school and get sassed by teenagers every day.”

“And someday we’ll have a house with a yard, and a car, and jobs where we can sleep in late every day and wake up holding each other. But I’m not holding my breath until then.” Yuta carefully balanced the little star on the top of the tree, which looked equal parts pathetic and adorable. “Until then, I’m okay just like this. I have a cute boyfriend that makes any apartment feel like home. I’m pretty damn happy."

Lighted and decorated, their little bonsai Christmas tree didn’t look half bad. It was certainly a nice centerpiece to their coffee table, and when it was finished, they both spent a moment in reverence of it, their fingers twined.

“Do you remember what we did together last Christmas?” Sicheng asked suddenly, smiling as he placed the controller in Yuta’s lap and snuggled up close, heads resting together. It had become almost ritual, that when Sicheng was too tired to play, it was Yuta’s turn.

“Yeah, the only thing we  _ could _ do when we were over a thousand kilometers apart? We played League and got all mushy in the group chat ‘til everyone else muted us.”

“And what do you want to do this year for Christmas?” Yuta finally unpaused the game -  _ Dark Souls _ , and just before a boss fight, no wonder Sicheng had passed it his way.

“Mm… probably play League and get all mushy in the group chat ‘til everyone else mutes us.” Sicheng smirked a little, giving Yuta a peck on the cheek. “Celebratory sex if we win. Consolation sex if we lose.”

Yuta couldn’t keep from laughing, and even Sicheng blushed and laughed at himself, nuzzling shyly into Yuta’s hair. Maybe things weren’t perfect just yet, but at least they were together, and they had the little things, like fairy lights saturating the walls in gold, to remind them of that.


	7. Mark/Jungwoo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DAY 7. Mark/Jungwoo - Jungwoo turns a sweet winter date into a chaotic snowball fight.
> 
> Rated T but only because they're potty mouths

It all started with a perfectly aimed snowball, hitting Mark squarely in the back of the neck.

Jungwoo was an asshole, and he made asshole snowballs. He packed them together tightly enough to be aerodynamic, sailing through the air like heat seeking missiles, and yet loose enough to explode on impact and fall down into the collar of Mark's jacket. Mark shrieked, whirling around on his feet, even as he tried desperately to shake the snow free.

"What the fuck, dude!"

Jungwoo gave him that ever-innocent smile. "What! It's the first good snowball-fight-snow of the year. I had to!"

Mark sighed, though it was impossible to keep playing irritated. Jungwoo's smile was absolutely infectious, and soon it was tugging on his lips. "You're older than me, and you're supposed to be setting an example for me, and right now you're doing a real shit job of it." He hoped he could win him over with a pout, and as he stepped in close, he tugged Jungwoo by his coat pockets until their bodies were flush. “You owe me a coffee now.”

“I don’t feel like this big huge guilt trip is all that necessary! I would have bought you coffee anyway, just ‘cuz I love you.” Jungwoo smiled gently, and Mark was hit with a second set of chills.  _ God _ , he loved this asshole. He couldn’t help it, he stood up straighter to pull Jungwoo in for a kiss, their cold noses pressed together.

Mark fell right into Jungwoo’s trap, of course. Just as soon as he was melting into the kiss, a second snowball clutched in Jungwoo’s mittened hand smashed against the back of Mark’s head. Jungwoo, intelligent as he was, had begun to run before Mark could even register what had happened.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry!  _ I HAD TO! _ ”

Mark was stumbling off after him after a second’s delay. How had a nice winter walk at the park turned into this, anyway? He wasn’t sure, but he was out for blood. He bent only long enough to load up his arms with snow, but luckily, his boyfriend was a klutz. One misstep, and he’d fallen into a fluffy snowdrift, making him the perfect target for Mark to dump his armload of snow all over Jungwoo’s back.

Jungwoo didn’t have any room to be mad. That might have been his  _ biggest _ asshole quality, how he could act like such a jerk, receive payback, and then flash Mark a smile so big that he couldn’t even be properly mad. Kim Jungwoo’s smile could have ended wars. “This is fun! Honestly, you’re the best sport I’ve ever dated. Thanks for letting me act like an idiot.” Jungwoo sat up with some difficulty; snow clung to his wool coat and his dark hair, and his cheeks and nose had gone rosy with the cold. Mark knew better than to melt at the sight, but he did.

Offering Jungwoo his hand to help him up, he tried his best to speak sternly: “Every time you fuck me up with snow, I hope you know that you owe me another coffee date.”

Jungwoo giggled. “Oh,  _ absolutely.  _ What kind of hyung would I be otherwise?” he asked in perfect innocence, right before he yanked  _ hard _ on Mark’s arm and pulled him down in the snowbank beside him.

They were a sight, walking into the coffee shop together, wet with melted snow and cheeks red, holding hands. They were such messes, dripping all over the floor, that Mark nearly thought they would get kicked out, but all Jungwoo had to do was give the barista that winning smile of his and she was smiling back, oblivious to Mark’s very presence. “What can I get for you?”

“I’d like a large mocha with extra espresso, please.” Jungwoo couldn’t keep his composure for more than a couple seconds, and he broke into a giggle as he added, “And I’d like you to make whatever my boyfriend wants, so that he’s not mad at me for burying him in a snow bank anymore.”

“Yeah, um, I’ll take an  _ extra _ large hot chocolate. With whipped cream, marshmallows… uh, any other ways I could make that even more expensive?”

“You could add espresso.”

“Perfect.  _ Two _ espresso.” Mark gave Jungwoo a pointed look as his hyung pulled out his bank card. He paid and they stepped aside to wait for their drinks - and Jungwoo was nice enough, at this point, to take and hold Mark’s soaked wool coat.

“That makes  _ six _ separate coffee dates, I hope you understand. You trying to bury me counts for two.”

“Oh, man. I don’t know what I’ll do.” Jungwoo kissed Mark on the forehead. “Well, you know, the winter is still young. Don’t make plans with any other guys, at least until the spring. I’m sure I’ll have you all booked up.”


	8. Jaemin/Haechan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DAY 8. Jaemin/Haechan - Donghyuck accidentally admits his crush to the wrong group of friends, the ones who can't keep a secret. Renjun and the others decide to help him along with some strategic mistletoe.
> 
> Rated G

"All right, we're holding an intervention. You  _ need _ to make a move."

This was not the first time that Jaemin had been told this, but he was kind of surprised by how organized this new effort was. Renjun, Chenle, and Mark had quite literally cornered him, blocking him into Renjun and Jeno's living room, where they were throwing up decorations for the Christmas party they were having later that night (as much as seven guys drinking and watching dumb movies could be considered a Christmas party, anyway). Jaemin wasn't even sure why stringing up fairy lights was necessary for a party, and was beginning to wonder if he was just roped into doing this because Jeno was out getting food and Renjun wasn't tall enough to reach the tops of the doorways without assistance.

"Just because he's into guys doesn't mean he's into  _ me _ . We're not you and Jeno," Jaemin replied dryly. They'd all been just friends, the seven of them - in fact, they’d celebrated Christmas together the year before with the excuse that they were all single - but then Jeno came out of the closet and Renjun (who probably had never had a closet to begin with) snapped him up almost at once. Then earlier that year, Jaemin had come to terms with being bisexual, and coming out to his friends was met with nothing but support.  _ Inspired _ by him (Renjun's words), Donghyuck had been the fourth to begin expressing doubts about his sexuality.

"No, listen to this text," Renjun said impatiently, raising his phone. "Donghyuck: 'How do you know if you're gay?' To which I replied, 'IDK, I guess if you think about kissing guys??' And then he didn't respond for  _ ages _ \--"

"Because he was  _ drinking whiskey with Mark. _ "

Renjun, of course, ignored him. "--and then, at 10:15, he finally got back to me and said 'I dreamed about Jaemin and it's freaking me out.'"

"I  _ freak him out _ . Are you listening to yourself?"

Chenle laughed, of course. "Jaemin, you guys are close, aren't you? Why wouldn't you wanna try dating? I mean, I'm straight, but I think our Hyuckie is pretty cute."

Jaemin frowned a little; he was a bad liar, had to turn his eyes back to decorating. "Because. Things will happen when the time is right."

"Not if you don't ever make a move!" Mark insisted. "Listen, don't wait around for Donghyuck, that's all we're saying. He's not as confident as he lets on."

Jaemin stood on his toes, grunting with effort as he drove another pushpin in for the fairy lights. The conversation was over, he was making it known, but that didn't mean he wasn't still thinking about what Chenle had asked. Why didn't he want to date Donghyuck?

The truth was, he didn't want to lose a friend to some  _ bullshit. _ Coming out was a confusing, tumultuous time. Jaemin would be a dirty liar if he tried to say that he hadn't thought about kissing his friends - that didn't mean he wanted to do it. Still, at least his friends had the decency to change the subject, even if Renjun pouted the whole time.

It wasn't long before the other half of them returned with the rest of the party supplies: Jeno with a grocery bag of soda cans in each hand (he nearly dropped them at Renjun’s flying hug),. Jisung with three pizzas in a stack in his arms. “Donghyuck grabbed his karaoke machine!” Jeno announced, casting Jaemin a glance. “Will you go help him with it, so he doesn’t drop anything?”

“You guys  _ already _ have your shoes on,” Jaemin whined; as if in protest, both of them quickly rushed to kick off their sneakers.

“Just because we don’t think Hyuckie is gonna make a move, doesn’t mean we’re not going to give him a chance,” Renjun answered with a sly smile. “But if you don’t think he actually likes you, then you have nothing to be scared of!”

Jaemin huffed. “You  _ guys _ \--” Fuck, it was a good argument. Still, Jaemin took a moment to glare at each and every one of them as he put his winter coat on (ignoring their shit-eating grins).

Luckily, Renjun and Jeno only lived on the second floor of their building, so at least it wouldn’t be a trek back up the stairs. Jaemin made his way out to the parking lot and scanned for Jeno’s car, but Donghyuck, standing taller than the vehicle, caught his eye first. Messy chocolate hair, golden honey skin, lips trembling slightly with shivers as he stood in the wind - Jaemin looked down at his feet as he picked his way across the slushy parking lot. There were a lot of reasons why Donghyuck wasn’t about to make a move on him, and those were just a few of them.

When he looked up, Donghyuck was staring his way, eyebrows raised. “I thought Jeno was going to come out and help me?”

“Yeah, well, you know. As soon as he got in the door, Renjun started smooching him, and we couldn’t pry him away again.” Jaemin reported dryly, managing a smirk. He couldn’t bring himself to tell the truth, he wanted to spare Donghyuck the embarrassment. “Want me to get the machine, or the mics?”

“You should get both! And I’ll open the doors for you!” Donghyuck smiled sweetly, clearly joking, but even so, Jaemin internally swooned.

( _ Of course _ Jaemin liked Donghyuck, in every conceivable way; sometimes like a frenemy, sometimes like a nuisance little brother, sometimes like his closest confidente, but ever since Renjun had spilled the beans, there was something deeper there. What would it be like to kiss Donghyuck, anyway? His lips looked soft, even now.)

“You’re a brat.”

“Bitch, I’m  _ older _ than you.”

“Doesn’t mean you’re not a brat.”

Bickering kept the energy between them light, which made Jaemin feel better as he hoisted up the karaoke machine, while Donghyuck grabbed the microphones and a stack of DVDs he’d brought along - then it was back inside, up the stairs, and down the hall to Renjun’s apartment, where both of them stopped in their tracks. Hanging from the door, above the number, was a ribbon-tied bunch of mistletoe.  _ Taunting them. _

“Oh my  _ God-- _ ” Donghyuck huffed in irritation, and there was no missing the redness on his face as he tugged on the doorknob. Locked. Renjun and Mark had thought of  _ everything _ . “They’re such  _ idiots _ . Jaemin, I’m sorry--”

Jaemin laughed, trying to be just as annoyed - and he  _ was _ annoyed, a little, but it was also kind of touching, thinking that they’d wanted to give Donghyuck a quiet moment to make his confession.  _ I wonder if he will. I wonder if he even wants to. _ “It’s okay. Renjun told me,” he admitted softly. “I-- I figured if you wanted me to know, you’d tell me yourself, so that’s why I didn’t ask about it.”

Donghyuck sighed; it was hard to tell if his cheeks were red from the cold or from his blush. “I should have known he would make it weird,” he lamented, shaking his head. “I just wanted to talk to someone who knew what it was like. Feeling this way about one of your friends. Since he liked Jeno for a long time before they started dating…”

Jaemin bit his lip, blushing himself. He’d half expected Donghyuck to make some excuse, or to insist that it was a mistake, but there it was, out in the open.  _ Feeling this way. _ “It’s okay,” he said again, feeling a little tingle of excitement travel up his spine as their eyes met. Donghyuck had pretty eyes, too, and as much as he wanted to, Jaemin couldn’t look away. “Should we-- I mean, if you  _ want _ to kiss me… we could try. Those are the rules of mistletoe, anyway…” He looked down at his shoes, feeling awkward with the weight of the small karaoke machine still stashed under his arm and resting on his hip. “No pressure. But I kind of… like you too.”

“Really? Why?” Donghyuck blurted out, seeming genuinely flabbergasted.

“I don’t know, I ask myself that all the time.” Jaemin grinned, and Donghyuck rolled his eyes, reaching out his free hand to grab Jaemin gently by the front of his coat.

“ _ Jerk _ .”

Then, unceremoniously, Donghyuck kissed him - it was a simple affair, and yet Donghyuck’s lips still trembled with nerves, and their noses awkwardly bumped. It made Jaemin wonder if this was his friend’s first kiss, or if he was really just  _ that _ awkward, but either way, it made him smile.

From the other side of the apartment door, suddenly, there was a muffled cheer.  _ Oh yeah, that’s right. There’s a peep hole. _ He turned immediately to demand to be let inside, but Donghyuck nudged him softly and regained his attention.

“We’re spending the night, right?” he whispered with a little smirk, cheeks still glowing. “Let’s fill Renjun’s coffee cup with soy sauce tomorrow morning when he’s not looking.”

“This entire scheme actually reeks of Chenle, to be honest.”

“We might as well get them all, just to be sure.”

Jaemin grinned, and as the door swung open for them (revealing five shit-eating grins on the other side), he wasn’t shy about giving Donghyuck one more kiss on the cheek. “You’re evil and I love it,” he said simply, leading the way inside. He’d let the rest of them wonder about what that meant.


	9. Taeyong/Johnny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DAY 9. TAEYONG/JOHNNY - Taeyong and Johnny celebrate their first Christmas together, as a family, and Johnny decides that the kiddos aren't the only ones who deserve a little Santa magic.
> 
> Rated G, though some mentions of death, but balanced out by featuring BABY JISUNG AND JENO which is why u gotta read

“One more story, Dad? Please?” Jeno’s eyes were earnestly wide. The kid loved to read, and at five, he was able to read a lot of his favorite books on his own. Still, Johnny had read to him every night that he could remember (he’d read to him  _ in utero _ \- his ex had laughed at him), and it warmed his heart that Jeno still loved it so much.

Still, it was past 9 PM, on Christmas eve. Beside Jeno, his three-year-old step-brother Jisung was conked out already, drooling on the pillow. Was it even worth moving him to his own bed? Probably not.

“You need to get to sleep so Santa doesn’t skip by our house!” Johnny reminded him with a smile. “He knows when you’re awake, right? Your eyes need to be closed when he peeks in!”

Jeno nodded, a grave look of determination coming to his little face. Sleep was his mission, and in his mind, it was a matter of life or death. Johnny leaned down to kiss Jeno’s forehead, and then Jisung’s, before turning out the light. “Goodnight, boys. Love you.”

“Wait!” Jeno whispered suddenly, now dimly illuminated by nothing but his nightlight. He wore a slight frown as he mused, “Santa knows Jisung is here now, right? So he’s not gonna bring his presents to Korea by mistake?”

Jeno was such a humanitarian, it made Johnny want to cry. Johnny had reconnected with Taeyong, his high school sweetheart, nearly a year and a half ago. He’d just separated from Jeno’s mother, which was hard on them both, and he was surprised to find that Taeyong was a single father as well, his wife having passed away unexpectedly when Jisung was just months old. Jeno was already calling Jisung his “little brother” after the first time they met over Skype, and since they’d moved to Chicago in September, Jeno had become fiercely protective of the little one.

“Nope, Santa’s on top of it! You’re both going to get lots of presents!” Johnny promised, having to try hard not to laugh. “No more worries. Sweet dreams, okay?”

“You too!” Jeno piped up in response, satisfied with the reassurance. God, it was too much for him sometimes, the thought that he’d made this amazing little human, with all this humor and compassion. Shaking his head, he closed the door quietly on his way out, making his way back to the living room.

_ Our first Christmas as a family. _ The thought warmed him from the toes up as he stepped back out into the festively-decorated living room. The Christmas tree was so big that it scraped the ceiling (Johnny would  _ not  _ compromise on an amazing tree, no matter how small their apartment was); Jeno and Jisung had done an admirable job of leaving all the candy canes and strung popcorn in place, even on the low-hanging branches. The (fake) fireplace was lit, with two large stockings mounted to the wall above, and Taeyong was just stuffing the last of the toys into them. (He’d even been thoughtful enough to reserve a handful of Christmas chocolates on the coffee table, for the adults - little things like this reminded Johnny why he loved him so much.)

“We’ll give Jeno fifteen minutes, make sure he’s actually sleeping and not faking it before we go get the presents out of the closet,” Johnny decided, coming up to hug his beloved from behind. “Jisung fell asleep in Jeno’s bed halfway through the first story.”

Taeyong chuckled, turning around and squeezing Johnny in return, face buried in his neck. “I’m so glad. Jeno is an amazing big brother, you know… It puts my mind at ease. I’m glad this is working out.” Indeed, Taeyong had been the one who was hesitant about bringing the children together and becoming a family -  _ Doesn’t a kid need a mother and a father? I don’t want Jisung to suffer for it. That matters more to me than anything else. I need Jisung to grow up okay. _

Johnny smiled. “They’re both so excited. Just wait until tomorrow-- this is what I love about Christmas. I can’t give much to Jeno most of the time, but for Christmas, I like to make it perfect.”

“You give him a lot. You give them both a lot.” Taeyong leaned up to give Johnny a kiss on the cheek, making him blush. With two little ones to tend to, the tender moments were sometimes few and far between - he had to savor what he could get. “We should take a picture of all the presents under the tree tonight, before the kids rip everything apart tomorrow morning.”

Johnny grinned. “Right?! You just reminded me, I need to go get the big stuff out of the car. Why don’t you start unloading the closet?”

There was a new two-wheeler for Jeno, a tricycle for Jisung, already ribboned up and labeled “FROM SANTA” - the little ring box in the glove compartment was “FROM SANTA”, too, which was more of a joke than anything. When he got back inside, Taeyong was carefully arranging the smaller gifts under the tree, and Johnny rolled the bikes up safely out of the way, against the wall. The ring box, he tucked neatly in between the branches, right at Jisung’s eye level, and said a little prayer that the boy’s sharp eyes wouldn’t fail him.

//

"Daddy!  _ Appa _ ! Santa came! He bringed me a bike!" It was Jisung's squeaky little voice that woke Taeyong up, at barely seven in the morning. For some reason, early mornings and late nights didn't bother him, when it came to Jisung waking him. It was a part of the job, he supposed. Still, he was warm in bed, acting as Johnny's little spoon, and he stole a few extra moments of comfort by allowing Jisung to get up in bed with them. Jeno soon followed, already munching on a candy cane despite the early hour.

"Jisung, I  _ told _ you. We don't open presents 'til after Daddy's coffee. Those are Santa's rules."

"That Santa's a very smart man," Taeyong commented, shifting enough to give Jisung a good morning kiss on his fat little cheek. "You can put on cartoons, okay? We'll come out soon." Once the thuds of their little feet had retreated down the hall, he turned his attention on his sleeping boyfriend; he knew from months of experience that along his collarbone was the best zone of attack.

"Oh my God, don't kiss me there if you want to get me  _ out _ of bed…"

"Ha, ha. Very funny. Save it for later," Taeyong smiled, smooching him on the cheek. "Come on,  _ Daddy. _ Santa came."

Taeyong remembered Christmases with Johnny in high school, going on dates and kissing under the Christmas lights - they were fine memories, but nothing like this new, Americanized Christmas, the extravagance of so many toys that they wouldn't all fit under the tree. While the adults sipped coffee and cuddled on the couch, they allowed Jeno and Jisung to take turns opening gifts: books, markers, and Legos for Jeno, and for Jisung, an assortment of new stuffed animals and the set of My Little Pony figurines he'd pleaded for from the TV commercials, among other frivolities. Taeyong took pictures, not wanting to miss a single reaction--  _ they won't be this small forever. _

At last, at the end, while Jeno was absorbed in building a Lego City on the coffee table and Taeyong was laying cozy against Johnny's shoulder and half-watching the news, Jisung spoke up: "There's another tiny present! A tiny,  _ tiiiiny _ present!"

Taeyong blinked. What could they have forgotten? Had he really bought a present he'd completely forgotten about? But when Jisung came out from beneath the tree, it was a  _ ring box _ in his hand, which hit Taeyong hard. Toddling over, he climbed up into Taeyong's lap with it, popping it open. "Oooooh! It's pretty!  _ Banji. _ " There were many things that he didn't have English words for yet, being so young and fresh to America, and Taeyong pushed back his own nerves as he remembered to teach him.

"Ahh,  _ banji _ . It's a ring." Johnny beat him to it, taking it gently from Jisung's little hands. Taeyong got a good glimpse at last - a silver band, tastefully simple, with a single large princess cut diamond set on top. And Johnny was innocently acting  _ surprised _ . Taeyong's mouth was dry, his heart racing, but he had no idea what to say.

Jeno rushed over next, squeezing in between them so he could look, of course. "Wow! Santa must have had the wrong house?"

Taeyong had to laugh, at that, running his fingers affectionately through Jeno's hair. "Santa doesn't--"

"No, look!" Johnny closed the box and showed Jeno the label. "Can you read that?"

"To--  _ Youngho _ . From Santa. Santa knows your real name, Daddy!"

_ It's for him?! What in the world… _

"Santa knows  _ everything _ ." Johnny smirked in his sneaky way, popping the box back open and inspecting the ring one more time. "This was actually on my list. So I'm glad he remembered to bring it."

"Really?" Jisung sounded doubtful.

"Yeah. I told Santa that I wanted a ring that would look beautiful on your  _ appa _ . Should we try?" Johnny finally met Taeyong's eyes, flashing him a grin as he opened the box again and slid the ring onto Taeyong's left hand ring finger. "Look, a perfect fit! Gotta be a sign." He leaned in to kiss Taeyong over Jeno's head, lips lingering softly like he didn't want to pull away. "Marry me. Or if you're not ready yet, then promise to think about it. Because--  _ this _ is perfect to me. There isn't anything else I want, except for you and this little family we've made…"

Taeyong's eyes inevitably stung with tears, but he gathered his thoughts so as not to stall his answer: "There's nothing else I want! Just us, just--" God, was he going to cry in front of Jisung? He felt a happy little sob escape his lips as he hid his face in Johnny's neck. "I love you  _ so much--" _

"Yay! My  _ appa's _ getting married!" Jeno cheered, having a bit more understanding of this magnitude than Jisung, who only chimed back,

"He's  _ my appa  _ too!" And Taeyong laughed as he gave his youngest son a tight, affectionate squeeze, hanging onto the moment until Jisung inevitably got antsy and wiggled out of his lap. " _ Hyung _ , can my ponies live in your Lego City?"

"Hold on! They need a barn first." Jeno was quick to join him, and Taeyong filled in the now empty space with himself, clinging tight to Johnny's arm.

"I love you. Like, more than anything." His chest felt tight as he kissed Johnny again. He didn't dare say it, but Johnny knew how destroyed he'd been after losing Jisung's mother, about all the months he was sure he'd never be happy again. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

"I'm glad I make you happy. You  _ deserve _ to be happy. And if there's ever anything I can do to make you happier, then I will." Johnny chuckled, pulling Taeyong into a warm embrace, his head tucked under Johnny's chin. "And I'm glad your son is more observant than mine. I was starting to panic, I was going to crawl under the tree and find the ring myself…"


	10. Renjun/Chenle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DAY 10. RENJUN/CHENLE - "Dating an idol is probably just as stressful as being one." Renjun slips away for a holiday with his most loyal fan.
> 
> Rated G, pure mush

"I'm nervous."

Renjun had sensed it, by the way that Chenle was gripping his hand, but it was good to hear him say it. Chenle was a proud person, one who never liked to show his stress, even though in Renjun's opinion, dating an idol was probably just as stressful as being one. Sometimes, it seemed like everything was an undue hassle. Their flight arrangements, for example - Renjun had snuck out to spend the night with Chenle at his parents' house on Christmas eve, so that they could make it to the airport undetected and fly from Seoul to Jilin at 4 AM. They had to fly first class, and Renjun couldn't even bring himself to take off his mask until they were seated.

It was a difficult relationship, one with no PDA, no lovey-dovey Instagram photos - Chenle's own parents were doubtful that it would last, still skeptical that their son had somehow netted the object of his affections. Sometimes, Renjun even felt guilty, wondering if dating a fan was the right thing to do. There was so much uncertainty, and it was good to talk about it.

"I'm a little nervous, too," Renjun admitted, casting a cursory glance across the aisle for eyes or cameras on them. Luckily, they'd been careful leaving, and the businessman seated across the aisle from them seemed uninterested in them. Fans were the scariest, which Chenle knew all too well, given that he was one. "My parents are excited to meet you, though. Trust me-- I talk about you  _ all _ the time." He smiled, trying to encourage his boyfriend. "We live out in the country. No one will follow us all that way. We can be more open."

"You don't know that!  _ I'm  _ following you all that way." Chenle gave him a cheeky grin, the very one that had made him stick out among the sea of cameras and faces at their first fanmeet. But it was a cover-up this time, and Renjun knew that plainly from the way that Chenle fidgeted, playing with Renjun's fingers.

"Yeah, well, you're not a stalker-fan, dummy. You're my boyfriend."

It was 4:30 in the morning, and despite this, Chenle still found the energy to squeal, pulling his hand back to hide his face behind his fingers. "It's been a year, and it still feels surreal when you say things like that," he admitted, giggling. "I'm-- I'm kind of sad that I can't kiss you right now, you know…"

_ And I'm sad that I can't give you everything you deserve. _ Renjun swallowed the sentiment, feeling a little bitter. Of course, Chenle knew what he was getting himself into when they'd begun to see each other, but it still made Renjun's chest ache to think of all the suffering he endured, all for a relationship that could end in a flash. Before he could respond, however, the flight attendant began her announcement that they were about to take off, and Chenle's attention was diverted to his seatbelt, making sure it was fastened.

_ This is my first time visiting home since debut. For the next week, maybe we can pretend that I'm not an idol anymore - maybe we can just be us. _

Renjun trembled, hesitant, only half listening to the flight attendant's safety spiel - after gathering his courage at last, he leaned in and pressed a brief kiss to Chenle's cheek, and whispered simply in his ear, "Love you."

Chenle's blush, the bewildered glance, the broad grin that made his eyes scrunch up - it all made Renjun's chest swell, even though his boyfriend's only response was to grab his hand for dear life. Moments like this, they made all the hardships feel worth it; Renjun only hoped that Chenle felt the same way.

//

It was late morning by the time they not only landed in Changchun, but endured the long train ride to the small town that Renjun called home. It barely  _ felt _ like home anymore, he hated to say, and every person he passed with a camera made him double check himself and adjust the mask on his face.

Home at last, his mother greeted him with frantic hugs and kisses, which melted into tears. He worked too hard, he was too thin, weren't they feeding him there? It was the same treatment he'd gotten when they'd visited him in Seoul that summer, but knowing that his mother  _ always _ fussed over him, it only made him smile. "I'm fine, I promise. I work hard, but Chenle doesn't let me diet too much. He feeds me every time we see each other."

He was thankful, at least, that his parents liked his boyfriend - but the day had been exhausting, so it was a relief to slip off to his bedroom after lunch. It was like a snapshot from the past, untouched since he'd left home at fourteen, including his collection of K-pop albums and the BoA posters papered to his wall. Chenle was quick to drop his bag and collapse on Renjun's bed, and Renjun smiled.

"Would you like your Christmas present?"

Chenle pouted suddenly. "We said no presents! I'm so broke! I didn't get you anything!" he whined, propping himself up nonetheless to see as Renjun unzipped his suitcase.

"You bought a plane ticket to come see my parents with me!" Renjun pulled the wrapped parcel out from beneath his folded clothes. "You go out of your way for me  _ all _ the time. Not just in promoting me on Twitter, either. You stand by me, even when it's hard for both of us. You don't complain that we can't go on dates. Hell, you've spent the last year telling all your best friends you're single! You give me gifts every day!" He set the box on the bed, suddenly feeling embarrassed as he met Chenle's eyes. "I really do… love you. And I know how stressful our relationship can be, but… but I really want us to last, Chenle, because you're _ worth _ it to me."

Chenle's hands trembled as he took the box, eyes still wide and incredulous as he looked down. "I love you too! But I'm not really doing you some grand favor, you know. I'm being spoiled by the chance to date my favorite singer of all time. I actually wonder all the time if it's selfish of me…"

"Every fan who wants to date their bias would probably give up after a month of what you've endured. That's love. Everything you've done for me… that's  _ true _ love." He slipped into bed beside Chenle and hugged him close, their bodies pressed together; it was a position they didn't get to assume very often. "Now stop complaining and open your present!"

Chenle's pout intensified, but Renjun knew that his curiosity would get the better of him. He pulled the paper away delicately, careful not to tear it (it warmed his heart, how delicate his lover could be when it came to  _ him _ ). The moment that he saw the box beneath the paper, displaying a brand-new camera and boasting its many features, he looked back to Renjun incredulously. "You  _ didn't--" _

"You said your camera was acting up. Here you go. Just don't tell the other fansites where you got it." Renjun grinned. "Maybe on my next break from schedules, we'll go on a proper vacation, and we can use that to capture all the memories we make. I know we can't share our relationship with everyone else, but… we don't have a  _ single _ picture of the two of us together, and one of these days, we need to change that."

Chenle's smile was so big, for a moment it obscured the tears pooling in his eyes. "I don't mind, though, you know?"

"You really don't?"

"I share you with people _ every _ day," Chenle explained softly, and to Renjun's surprise, he set the camera aside, set his  _ passion _ aside, and twined their fingers together. "It's my job to take pictures of NCT's Renjun, my ultimate bias. But Boyfriend-Renjun, who I only get to see once in a blue moon? He's all mine!" He rested his forehead against Renjun's, bumping their noses together. A second later, their lips found each other; gentle but confident, almost possessive. "I'm okay putting my camera up for the week. Let's see how many memories we can make without it."


	11. Doyoung/Haechan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DAY 11. Doyoung/Haechan - Doyoung locks himself out of his apartment on Christmas eve, and has a first encounter with his hospitable next door neighbor.
> 
> Rated G

_ Voicemail again.  _ Doyoung cursed, ending the call with a harsh jab of his thumb. He didn't get angry easily, but he  _ was _ prone to panicking when he didn't have any ideas of what to do. He'd called his landlord (no answer), the locksmith (straight to voicemail - of course, closed on Christmas, probably), even his roommate Jaehyun, who was probably in bed with his cute girlfriend, getting lucky, while Doyoung froze outside with half a key in his hand. The other half glinted defiantly from within the doorknob, taunting him.

It was nearly midnight. Would it be rude to go  _ back _ to his parents' place at this hour and crash on the couch? If the alternative was freezing to death out in the snow, it was worth it. It was unusually frigid that night, and Doyoung's fingers hurt as he unlocked his phone again and scrolled down through his contacts.

The sound of footsteps made him suddenly freeze - it was his neighbor, he assumed, though it was hard to tell since he was bundled up in a coat, hat, and scarf. All Doyoung really knew about the kid was that he was young, in college, and listened to his music loud enough that he and Jaehyun occasionally had to slam on their shared wall to remind him how thin it was. Feeling reluctant, but particularly desperate, he took a chance at calling out: "Hey… can you help me? I'm locked out…"

"Huh?" The man had been fumbling with his own keys, and he looked up in surprise, noticing Doyoung for the first time. "What do you wanna do? Break in?" He spoke loudly, and though his words weren't slurred, the way he stood, loose and relaxed, made Doyoung suspicious that he'd just come back from a party. "Where's your cute roommate?"

Doyoung had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing, which seemed inappropriate when he was asking for help. "He's with his girlfriend. I-- can't _ believe _ you called him that. I think all our windows are locked, though, and my key…" He lifted it to show him how the tip had broken off in the lock. "I need to call a locksmith in the morning."

"That sucks! Why don't you come in out of the cold, anyways?" He unlocked his own door at last, pulling against the strong wind to open it. "You can crash, if you don't have anywhere else. My roommate is visiting his parents in Canada. He probably wouldn't care if you took his bed for the night."

Doyoung was taken aback by the casual way that this stranger offered him a bed to sleep in -  _ I don't even know his damn name. _ Still, he was going inside, leaving Doyoung no choice but to follow. As he stepped into the warmth of the apartment and took off his shoes, he could see the man typing into his phone, slowly reading each word aloud as he went. "Can-- the-- cute-- neighbor-- boy-- sleep-- in-- your-- bed?"

"I'm cute, too?" Doyoung was oddly touched by the obvious flirting - or maybe the kid was just like this with everyone? "My name's Kim Doyoung, by the way. I don't think we've been properly introduced."

"I'm Lee Donghyuck. And you're both cute! I thought you were boyfriends. No offense," he replied, turning the kitchen lights on. The apartment layout was identical to Doyoung's, though Donghyuck and his roommate weren't quite as tidy. The sink was stacked full of dishes, and he had to move a used pan off the stove to make space for a clean skillet. "Are you hungry? I just got back from a Christmas party, I feel like I'll be sick tomorrow if I go to sleep with nothing but beer in my stomach. I'm going to make eggs."

Doyoung had to laugh.  _ That _ had to be why Donghyuck was being so forthcoming. "Do you need any help? I mean, it's the least I can do, since you saved me from freezing to death out there. And…" Doyoung was trying to keep the energy light, though he could feel his face heating up regardless. "...not to mention, you called me 'cute'."

Donghyuck's face lit up. "Oh my god. Do you know how to make pancakes?"

//

Doyoung was used to waking up early, no matter how late he went to bed. It was programmed into his brain from so many years of bakery work - he was usually there for 6 AM in order to start making bread, muffins, bagels, and donuts in time to the morning rush. Even without an alarm, on the morning after Christmas, he woke up naturally at 5:30 in the morning, his body aching slightly from passing out curled up, on a couch instead of a bed.  _ How did I get here? Oh, right _ \-- He was at Donghyuck's place, still locked out of his own. On the coffee table in front of him were two dirty plates from the pancakes they'd eaten in the middle of the night, and next to him, much to his surprise, Donghyuck was still sitting awake, PS4 controller in hand. He was playing Overwatch on the big screen, muted so as not to disturb him. Faintly, Doyoung smiled.

"Have you been awake all night?"

"Yup~ It's Saturday! No classes," Donghyuck glanced away from the screen long enough to give Doyoung a smile. "Mark said you could sleep in his bed, but you passed out here before he texted back, so I just gave you a blanket. There's also coffee in the kitchen if you want it."

"Mm… thanks." Still sleepy, Doyoung sat up, running his fingers through his wild hair. He had some time before he could do anything about his apartment, still, but he was nice and cozy beneath Donghyuck's blanket. "You must be hungover, huh? You were funny last night. You called me cute."

"Okay, for real, I only had like  _ two  _ beers. What you were seeing was an honest attempt at flirting. Sorry if it was weird, though. Mark says I gotta stop projecting my sexuality on every attractive guy I meet, but I mean-- you miss 100% of the chances you don't take, right?"

It seemed like every compliment set Doyoung blushing all over again. Donghyuck was young, and blunt, and probably had a lot to learn about life - but he was earnest and sweet, and Doyoung liked both of those things a lot. "Mark should learn to mind his business," he replied simply, giving himself into temptation and laying his head on Donghyuck's shoulder. The man stiffened for half a second, and then relaxed; when the match ended, he reached out and placed a brave hand on Doyoung's knee.

"So I know you have stuff to do this morning, with your key and everything, and I might pass out for a bit after you leave, but I was kind of hoping you might let me cook you dinner tonight?" Donghyuck asked quietly, terse with thinly veiled hope. "As a thank-you for the pancakes, and all, you know… I make a  _ pretty _ great instant-ramen-pad-thai, if that interests you."

Doyoung smiled softly. "Sounds good. I'm going into work this afternoon, I'm sure I'll work up an appetite." Lifting his head slightly, he snuck a look at Donghyuck, who's cheeks still hadn't completely paled from his earlier confession. "Shall we call it a first date?"

Donghyuck laughed. "You're such a better flirt than me. Yes, we  _ shall _ ." And with this, bravely, he pressed his lips in a sweet, simple kiss to the corner of Doyoung's mouth. It wasn't even yet 6 AM, Doyoung felt disgusting and was sure he looked like hell, and yet ranked among his limited kissing experience, it was pretty damn good.

Suddenly, all the shit he had to do later seemed far less urgent. It was early, Doyoung was still sleepy, and Donghyuck was an excellent pillow, so he lay his head down and let himself doze.


	12. Taeil/Yuta

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DAY 12. TAEIL/YUTA - An innocent movie date on Taeil's couch turns into something a little more when an ice storm hits.
> 
> Rated T for sexual themes o3o

”Oh my God. I'm so sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" Yuta was laughing, awfully cheery for someone who had just fallen down and nearly broke his tailbone. 

Outside, the sleet was still coming down hard - Taeil had really never seen anything like it in Seoul. It was freezing on impact with the ground, and anything else that got in its way. That meant that Taeil's car was completely coated in ice, which they'd been diligently chipping away at, until Yuta lost his balance and went down hard. He was limping a little as they made it back inside, but he laughed again as he shook the melting ice out of his hair and tossed his hat on the radiator to dry. "You're not  _ in charge of _ the weather."

"Well, no, but I  _ did _ promise to drive you home after dinner. And I don't want you to be stuck here super late against your will." Taeil shivered as he removed his wet winter clothes, leaving his hair unflatteringly  _ flat.  _ "Weren't you planning on going into the lab tomorrow and working on your thesis?" (Taeil actually didn't know much about Yuta's thesis work, being nothing but a big dumb music student. Yuta was studying  _ chemical engineering _ , which was infinitely more impressive, and his intelligence made him all the more attractive.)

"Well, who said it was against my will?" Yuta shrugged. "Look, even if we can clean off your car, I don't want you driving in this. It's not safe. We can wait for it to blow over… or if you need me to go, I can walk to the bus stop, I'm sure."

"No, please stay. I don't want to think about you skating down the sidewalk in this." Taeil laughed softly, though he was sure Yuta could feel how twitchy and sweaty his hand was as he led him back to the couch. "You know, when I invited you over, it was only supposed to rain. I didn't think it would be so cold!"

"Hyung, do I really seem like I mind?" Yuta, like always, was so at ease - he leaned comfortably on Taeil's shoulder, grabbing the remote and flipping on the next episode of  _ Cowboy Bebop _ . "I like spending time with you. There's no place I'd rather spend Christmas night."

Taeil liked it, too, even though Yuta made him second guess himself like nobody else. He still wasn't even sure why they were together when Yuta was so confident and sweet and bright and Taeil was nothing but a ball of nerves and worries. Still, Yuta had been the first to make a move, the first to initiate a kiss. Maybe he was crazy, but he saw  _ something _ in Taeil that made him want to stay, and that meant the world.

//

"It's gotten worse," Taeil announced an hour and a half later, his teeth chattering slightly as he stomped the slush off his boots. The rain was mixed with snow, and this time, Taeil didn't even make it to the car. Since when did Seoul get storms like this? The universe was trying to push them together, from the looks of things. "I almost feel like you should… spend the night? I mean, obviously, you should take my bed. I'll sleep here on the couch…"

Yuta had come behind him to take his coat, and now stepped back in front of him, cupping Taeil's cold cheeks in his palms to warm him up. "You don't have to sleep on the couch, hyung…"

"I don't mind! The couch pulls out into a bed, anyway, so…" Taeil started, but trailed off when he noticed the smirk playing on Yuta's lips.

"How about we share the bed? It's a cold night. I wanna cuddle~" He pressed his lips to Taeil's, soft but insistent, and his voice was soft and sultry as his lips next moved to Taeil's ear: "Not to be pushy. I  _ do _ think it's cute that you're so shy… but you don't have to be."

"O-Oh… no, it's okay, we can cuddle. Or… whatever." Taeil cursed the tremor in his voice, trying to seem casual as he slipped out of his boots. The truth (which he had still never divulged) was that Yuta was his first  _ real _ kiss - and it went without saying that he had never done anything more, even though he'd certainly  _ fantasized  _ about it enough times. Yuta's hands, the sweet and loving way he would straighten Taeil's clothes and fix his shirt collars, contrasted with lingering fingertips tracing designs on his thigh while they watched TV together; Yuta's mouth, inspiring all kinds of sinful thoughts, kisses sweet but simmering with need. It was hard for Taeil to read relationships, but there was no clearer green light than Yuta leading him by the hand to his bedroom.

"This is okay, right? I don't want to--  _ take advantage _ of the situation…"

Yuta laughed quietly, making himself comfortable surprisingly quickly in Taeil's bed and tugging Taeil down beside him. It was dark, but for the streetlights peeking in through the window, and yet despite that, they fell easily into a comfortable position, with Yuta's arms around him. "It's a good situation to take advantage of. A cold night in, a cozy bed?" He chuckled. "But we don't need to go any further than you want to. We can go slow. You're worth waiting for."

_ You're worth waiting for. _ The sentiment warmed Taeil to his toes. For a long time, he hadn't thought of himself as worthwhile at all, but day by day, Yuta was changing his mind. He felt a wave of unfamiliar confidence as he pressed himself close to Yuta, and he trembled at the younger man's quiet sigh as he kissed the side of his neck.

"I feel like-- I'm  _ crazy _ for you, Yuta. It's only been a few months, and I'm falling for you." It was the kind of thing he was normally far too shy to say, but there in the dark, his heart fluttering, things were different. Yuta's tentative fingers trailed up the row of buttons on his shirt, and Taeil bit his lip.

"Can I touch you, hyung? Can I show you how crazy for you I am?" Yuta's voice was soft with need, and Taeil liked how he could kiss along his boyfriend's exposed collarbone and make his voice falter. "I'll stop if you change your mind. I just-- really want to make you feel good…"

A little nod of confirmation was all Taeil needed to give before Yuta's fingers deftly undid his top button, soft lips creating electricity wherever they touched. He was warm, so warm, exactly what Taeil needed - he was starting to think that the freezing rain still pelting the window was a blessing in disguise.


	13. Johnny/Mark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DAY 13. JOHNNY/MARK - Johnny insists on a full Christmas dinner, forgetting the fact that neither of them can cook.
> 
> Rated T for drinking and non-graphic sexual situation o///o

Johnny maybe bit off more than he could chew, insisting on cooking Christmas dinner for the two of them at home instead of making dinner reservations. Johnny was a pretty dependable cook in day-to-day life, and kept Mark well-fed on things like scrambled eggs, flatbread pizzas, and pad thai. Mark, who couldn’t make anything aside from microwave popcorn, conceded that Johnny was far better, even though Johnny was technically not very good.

A Christmas dinner was different, though. A Christmas dinner consisted of a turkey, probably cooked in the oven, which Mark honestly couldn’t remember either of them ever using; plus mashed potatoes, some kind of vegetable, and dessert. (Dessert was supplied ahead of time via mail from Mark’s mother, a large tin of rum balls packaged along with his Christmas present; they were both intrigued by the prospect of being able to get drunk off of a food item.)

“I’m actually, like, a little glad that I agreed to let you help me.”

Mark had to laugh. Helping, in his capacity, had been slicing cherry tomatoes in half for a salad and running tap water into the pot of potatoes so they could boil. Johnny had done all the laborious work of dressing the chicken (a small one, since there were only the two of them) and lubing it up with butter before it went into the oven. Mark set a timer on his phone while his boyfriend washed his hands. “We have an hour and a half, dude. What do you want to do?”

“What do  _ you _ want to do?” Johnny quirked an eyebrow as he threw the question back at Mark, before his focus was diverted to opening the tin of rum balls on the counter. They were adults, after all. Adults got to eat dessert first.

“We could watch TV or something. I wanna cuddle." Mark had to smirk as he pulled two low-ball glasses down from the shelf and the bourbon from the liquor cabinet. "Do we want to get cookie-drunk or actual drunk?"

"Mark, it's a weekday afternoon!"

"It's fucking  _ Christmas. _ "

"Fair point. We need to remember not to burn the apartment down, though." Johnny, responsible as always, but not seeming to remember that Mark could drink him under the table anyway. If anyone was going to get drunkenly irresponsible, it would be Johnny. Mark poured bourbon egg nogs without hesitation, they did a cheers, and made their way to the living room to get tipsy.

It was unusual, having time to themselves in the middle of the day. Cuddling was usually a bedroom affair, with Mark stressed from a day of dealing with elementary school kids and Johnny half asleep from his late hours in the office. This was a nice change of pace, curling up on the couch together, Johnny's head resting comfortably on Mark's thigh while his boyfriend stroked his hair… at least, until the commercials started and Johnny's wandering hand began a little stroking of it's own, tracing up Mark's inseam.

"Oh my god. What are you doing?"

"Touching you." Johnny turned to look up at Mark, somehow looking innocent and devious all at once. "We have, what, an hour?"

"Mm…" Mark glanced at his phone. "Forty five minutes."

"Oh, plenty of time. You never last that long." Johnny shifted into his back so he could use both hands to undo Mark's fly, biting his lip in that way that he knew drove Mark crazy, and, well… what was he going to do, say  _ no _ ?

As it turns out, it was far too easy for both of them to lose themselves that way, tipsy on bourbon and with Mark's fingers tangled in Johnny's hair. By the time Mark finished, feeling sex-dazed and mushy, he'd actually sort of gotten used to the smell of burning food that was permeating the living room, and the realization made him perk up instantly. "Wait-- you put the oven on the right temperature, right?"

"It's probably just-- like, charring. The skin is supposed to get crispy and shit." Johnny was otherwise still distracted, pushing Mark's shirt out of the way to kiss his bare stomach, probably waiting for Mark to return the favor.

"Uh-- there's smoke in the kitchen. I can see it. The timer still says twenty-five minutes, but--"

" _ Shit _ ." Johnny was on his feet at this, hurrying to pull the chicken out of the oven. "Hey, come open the windows, will you? Before the neighbors smell it?" Mark was a little slower, having to readjust all his misplaced clothing, but he did as directed and put a fan in the kitchen window to help filter out the smoke.

"It's not--  _ completely _ burned. Just the skin. And the breast." Johnny smiled ruefully, poking at the blackened skin gingerly with the carving knife. "Maybe we can save the dark meat?"

"Anything can be saved with gravy," Mark decided, already rifling through the cabinets for the instant mix. "Why don't you start the potatoes cooking, and I'll make gravy? You just add water, right?"

"I don't know if I trust you to do that job."

"Well, then, we'll do it together, hotshot." Mark couldn't help but grin, despite the smell of charred food that he knew would probably linger all evening, and as he filled a small saucepan with water, he was surprised to feel a strong pair of arms snake around his waist and Johnny's chin resting on his shoulder.

"I love you. A lot," Johnny mumbled, breath tickling Mark's neck. "I'm sorry that I almost burned our whole building down."

Mark laughed. "You're so  _ dramatic. _ It's not like I noticed it, either. Your mouth tends to be… distracting." He turned in the embrace to give Johnny a soft kiss, and then broke away to go back to the stove. "I love you, too. Hey, maybe Donghyuck was right, maybe we're each just one half of a fully mature, responsible adult. Maybe we're better together."

"Yeah, or maybe we're bad influences on each other." Johnny's mouth was full as he spoke, and a moment later, while Mark was whisking the gravy together, he opened his mouth to accept the other half of the rum ball that Johnny was trying to feed him. "Well, you know, if all else fails, we have cookies and booze. That sounds like Christmas dinner to me."

Honestly, to Mark, that didn't sound half bad. "Just remember, we're going  _ out _ for dinner next year. Obviously, this  _ cooking _ thing is a little above us..."


	14. Chenle/Jisung

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DAY 14. CHENLE/JISUNG - Chenle loses Jisung at the mall because Jisung is an absolute child.
> 
> Rated G! They're so pure ^~^

"Excuse me, sir. I need to use the announcement system."

Chenle felt like an idiot, standing there in front of the mall security guard. The PA announcements were usually reserved for lost children and frantic mothers; Chenle was neither, just a high school student with a stupid best friend. "Sure thing, kid. Did you lose your mom or dad?"

Chenle clenched his teeth and forced himself not to sigh. He wasn't sure if it was the baby face, or the accent; people tended to talk down to him, like he was stupid. He might have had an accent, and maybe he  _ did _ blank on words sometimes, but he was quite proficient in Korean. And  _ seventeen _ . Pointing that out wouldn't have helped, though, so he answered as sweetly as he could, "I lost my friend in here. We’re meant to be leaving, but I can’t find him anywhere. His name is Park Jisung."

"And your name?"

"Zhong Chenle." This was exactly what he'd been dreading, seeing the officer nod, turn to the mic, and announce through the blaring PA: 

"Park Jisung, please report to the security office. Your friend Zhong Chenle is looking for you. I repeat, Park Jisung, please report to the security office by the food court…"

Chenle sighed. He'd known that splitting up to buy each other presents was a risky move. It was Christmas eve, school was closed, and the mall was swarming with teenagers. Jisung had just seemed so inspired all of a sudden: "My mom gave me spending money! I want to buy you a Christmas present."

Chenle's mother didn't give him  _ spending money _ \- he had his own credit card, and his parents paid the bill after giving the numbers a cursory glance every month. He decided then that Jisung would get a Christmas present, too. After all, they'd been best friends since Chenle had moved to Seoul at age thirteen. Jisung had been ceaselessly nice to him and worked very hard to make their communication work, even though that meant having Google Translate as a third in conversation sometimes.

Chenle knew just what to get Jisung: new headphones, audiophile quality, perfect for Jisung’s tinkering with beats on his computer. He agreed to split up so he could go on his own to the electronics store, as long as they met again by the entrance by 8:00. Twenty minutes later, and Chenle just knew that Jisung had forgotten - it was so like him. The bus would reach the mall bus stop at 8:30, and taking a later one would mean arriving home late. This was the only reason he consented to having both their names blared over the PA system.

Five more minutes passed. Chenle checked his watch impatiently. He was considering making the security guard call him again, and that spoke to his desperation. But luckily, Jisung surprised him at the last second - coming along at a leisurely pace, with a large paper bag at his side. White bag, red and blue label; Chenle rolled his eyes. Figured, Jisung was late because he'd stopped at the gourmet candy shop.

"Sorry! I'm here!" Jisung grinned around the lollipop in his mouth. "They were giving out free samples. I got carried away. Do you want something?”

“No! We need to go catch the bus. It’s dark. You know my mom’s still weird about me staying out too late,” Chenle took Jisung gently by the wrist, leading him towards the door quickly; with his longer legs, Jisung kept up easily in half as many steps.

The rush at the end wasn’t enough - the bus stop was totally deserted when they arrived, a sure sign that it had just departed. The area was well-lit, at least. Chenle shivered, shoving his hands in his coat pockets, while Jisung seemed unaffected in nothing but a hoodie. He rifled through his bag of candy, pulling out something and offering it to Chenle. “It’s a strawberry flavored caramel. They’re really sweet, which I know you like. Eat it and stop being mad at me.”

Chenle rolled his eyes, but snatched up the candy anyway, smiling a bit. “I’m not really mad. Just irritated. I’ll text my mom and tell her we missed the bus, and she doesn’t like to scold me in front of you, so hopefully by the time you go home tomorrow she’s forgotten.” He tugged on the side of the bag inquisitively, unable to help himself. “What else do you have in here?”

“Caramels. Gummy worms. Rock candy. These lollipops that have gum inside.”

“I demand all of these things in retribution.” Chenle snatched the bag of gummy worms, picking out as many of the blue ones as he could before Jisung grabbed the bag back with a whine.

“You’re a mean hyung.”

“Yeah, well.” Chenle was going to say more, but he was cut off by an uncontrollable grin as he suddenly noticed a snowflake landing in Jisung’s hair. “Hey, look! The snow looks pretty under the street lights…”

“It does!” Jisung looked upwards - the dark sky was dotted with white flakes in flight, which Chenle had to marvel out. A minute ago, it had been clear; now, the snow made it feel a little bit more like Christmas eve. “I’m sorry that I lost track of time, hyung,” he suddenly spoke up, and the  _ hyung _ made Chenle realize how serious he was. Jisung never spoke formally to him, arguing that it was silly to do over a few months of age difference. “I feel like I’m a pain.”

“Eh. You’re not, really. Besides, I can’t be upset when I’m eating blue gummy worms.”

“That’s valid.” Jisung nodded, glancing up to the sky again. It was almost as if the snow were bothering him, and before Chenle could ask what was up, he spoke up all at once: “I told myself I was going to do wait until I gave you my present to say this, but… I think this moment is too perfect.” Their eyes met, Jisung’s face cold-flushed, tiny clouds slipping past his parted lips with each breath.

“Chenle, I like you  _ a lot _ .” Just saying it made Jisung smile, and Jisung’s smile made Chenle smile automatically, but the shock of it all had him momentarily short-circuited, and he couldn’t come up with a single word of Korean. Still, the smile must have been enough, because Jisung gathered the bravery to lean down and give him a quick peck on the lips, his mouth tasting sweetly of artificial strawberry lollipop.

Chenle couldn’t stop grinning, especially when Jisung blushed.  _ Nothing _ ever made Jisung blush. “Was that my Christmas present?” he asked, taking Jisung’s hand tentatively.   


“No! You can’t have your Christmas present until tomorrow!” Jisung seemed flustered, but even so, his confidence to make the first move really had been admirable. It was what gave Chenle the confidence to kiss him a second time, having to pop up on his toes to reach. Their lips merely touched, but it felt like electricity. 

“Is it candy?”

“It might be candy.” Jisung smiled sheepishly as he dated to tug Chenle closer, cuddling up shamelessly for body heat. “Expensive chocolates. For us to feed each other."

"Damn. I knew there was a catch." Chenle smiled. "You're lucky I love sweets."

"I'm sweet. Love me." Jisung stated matter of factly, pressing his cheek up against Chenle's to warm them both up while they waited. Chenle had to hide his face in Jisung's shoulder to keep from squealing.


	15. Jaehyun/Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DAY 15. JAEHYUN/TEN - Jaehyun meets his boyfriend of one year, for the first time, at Incheon International Airport.
> 
> Rated G-ish (mentions of sending nudes lol)

From the moment that the flight from Bangkok to Seoul was Chittaphoned as “arrived”, Jaehyun was tense and waiting. The baggage carousel went around and around, maddeningly slow. It occurred to him that maybe he should start the search for the suitcase he was waiting for while the crowds were still sparse, but he couldn’t keep his eyes away from the exit, where tired and frazzled passengers were making their way out. There were so many, but Jaehyun was straining his eyes, looking for one.

Would he know him when he saw him? His knees were shaking, and not just from the chill in the air. Finally, he turned the corner. Jaehyun saw the exact moment he did. He looked just as tired as everyone else from flying six hours non-stop, looking cute and cozy in an oversized black hoodie, beanie shoved down over his freshly bleached hair. He followed along with the crowd towards the baggage claim, but about halfway there, he turned his eyes and finally noticed Jaehyun.

Chittaphon grinned, instantly changing course and picking up his pace, and Jaehyun suddenly didn’t know what to do. He’d imagined this moment a thousand times over their year-long relationship; in his mind, he’d pictured himself suave, scooping up his boyfriend into his arms and kissing him confidently, like something out of a drama. In the moment, he was suddenly too self-conscious to do any such thing, but luckily, Chittaphon saved him by throwing his arms around Jaehyun’s shoulders and pressing his face shyly against his neck. Chittaphon was shorter than Jaehyun had imagined, and the realization made his insides melt.  _ So cute. _

“You’re real,” Chittaphon said simply, and the emotion in his voice made Jaehyun’s chest bloom with love all over again. It was hard not to laugh, despite also wanting to cry with happiness.  _ He’s mine for the next two weeks. We can celebrate Christmas together. We can be like other couples for a change. _ “God-- I’m sorry. I’m overtired. Traveling does this to me.” Chittaphon pulled back with an obvious blush, covering his cheeks with his hands.

“It’s-- it’s okay,” Jaehyun confirmed when he found his voice. He was still trembling, he could feel it, and hopefully Chittaphon didn’t think he was  _ too _ much of a baby. “No, it’s okay. I’m happy you’re here, too! I’m kind of, like-- starstruck. Seeing you in person for the first time...” He laughed, covering his mouth with his own hand as he stepped back. “Should we, uh-- get your suitcase? And then I was thinking we could stop for dinner somewhere on the way home, but if you’re too tired, we can wait ‘til tomorrow to do stuff…”

“No, dinner sounds great! I want to try some authentic Korean food while I’m here.” On their way to the baggage claim, they both fell silent, though Jaehyun was brave enough to take Chittaphon’s hand and twine their fingers. Chittaphon’s hand was adorably tiny in Jaehyun’s bigger one, but they still fit together like puzzle pieces.

“Which suitcase is yours?”

“It’s black, but it has a huge red luggage tag on it. It should stand out.” Chittaphon answered after a moment’s delay, suddenly giggling again. “I’m sorry I’m so awkward! I keep getting distracted by you. You look exactly like your pictures.”

“And that’s a distraction?” It was nerve-wracking, meeting Chittaphon’s eyes head-on, instead of through a computer screen.

“Yes! People are supposed to look  _ worse _ in person. You look like an  _ ulzzang. _ ” Chittaphon admitted with a giggle. “I feel like a troll in comparison.”

“The world’s cutest troll!” This was familiar territory, a conversation they’d had over text a thousand times. Chittaphon would normally follow up with ugly selfies in order to dissuade Jaehyun, but this time, he only blushed like a fool. The opportunity to really look at each other was suddenly so alluring that Chittaphon nearly missed his bag on the conveyer belt.

“All right, what kind of delicious food are you buying me tonight, Ulzzang Boyfriend?”

“I was thinking Korean fried chicken?” Jaehyun suggested with a grin, setting course next for the exit so they could wait for the bus. It was one of his favorite dishes, and he could hardly believe it when Chittaphon said he hadn’t eaten it when he’d visited Seoul as a child, on family trips. “My favorite restaurant is the one closest to my apartment, actually.” Feeling suddenly shy again, he averted his eyes, adding, “Since tomorrow’s Christmas eve, I was thinking we could spend the day in Gangnam, and I’ll treat you to an  _ actual _ nice meal. We can go to Coex, the  _ Bongeunsa _ temple…”

“The SM Building. You promised we could. We need to stand outside until we see Exo.”

“Of course! I didn’t forget! We’ll see if we can catch a glimpse of our boyfriend.” It was one of their best in-jokes: that they’d quietly downplayed their love of boy groups for weeks, each embarrassed to tell the other, until the drunken Skype date when they discovered that they had the same favorite group and even the same bias.

It was cold outside, and luckily the bus came quickly. Jaehyun paid the fare and led the way to some empty seats, which they wedged Chittaphon’s suitcase under when they sat down.

“Hey, you know what’s crazy?” Jaehyun blurted out after a moment. “I’ve spent an entire year wanting to kiss you, and now you’re here and we  _ haven’t _ .”

“Well, yeah. I didn’t want to scare you away-- I wasn’t sure you’d want me to do it in public,” Chittaphon admitted, turning his head to hide his laugh in Jaehyun’s shoulder and murmuring softly between them, “We have each others’ nudes, and yet I’m nervous to kiss you. You know, this ‘in-person’ stuff is kind of hard.”

The bus was  _ barely _ public, in Jaehyun’s opinion, and it was close to empty - the only people he could see were engrossed with their phones, anyway. Feeling brave, he slipped an arm around Chittaphon’s waist. “Is it okay? Can I…?”

Chittaphon blushed all over, even his ears going red, but he nodded without hesitating. Jaehyun kept the kiss brief and sweet, their lips lingering together for just a couple seconds before they broke apart and awkwardly laughed.

“I’m sorry. I’m  _ definitely _ worse in person.” Jaehyun smiled sheepishly. “I hope my good looks distract from the fact that I’m completely tongue tied.”

“Yeah, not a problem. I don’t need you to talk at all, I’m happy just staring at you,” Chittaphon teased softly. His face glowed with warm affection, and now seeing that affection didn’t deter him, he rested his head gently against Jaehyun’s shoulder. “Right now, I could fall asleep on you.”

Jaehyun squeezed Chittaphon’s hand, feeling light with joy. “That’s okay. I’ll wake you up once we’re home.” (As soon as he said it, he thought back to the discussion they’d had the day before, Chittaphon’s tentative proposal over the phone:  _ “If this works out in person, maybe I’ll think about coming back to stay.” _ Jaehyun thought that things so far were working out pretty fucking wonderfully in person.)


	16. Jaemin/Jeno

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DAY 16. JAEMIN/JENO - Jeno attempts to help with Jaemin's Christmas baking, scamming some free cookies and kisses in the process.
> 
> Rated G!

“Don’t eat that. There’s raw eggs and flour in it.”

Jeno looked Jaemin in the eyes, shrugged, and then popped his chocolate-covered finger into his mouth. “It’s good.”

“Are you even listening? Stop it.” Jaemin lightly slapped at Jeno’s hand as he reached in to grab another fingerful of brownie batter. “Anyway, if you wait an hour, some of these are for you.” He nodded his head towards the racks of cookies, cooling on the counter. “I’m making gift boxes for our managers and coordis, as Christmas presents. I was going to let you guys eat whatever’s left. Anyway-- we’re all supposed to be on diets, so be sneaky.”

“I can’t believe you’re telling this to  _ your hyung _ .”

“ _ You’re literally four months older than me. _ ”

“Yeah, and you know what that extra four months of wisdom tells me?” Jeno snatched a chocolate chip cookie from the cooling rack, still warm and gooey. “If the managers don’t see me eat something, it doesn’t count.”

Jaemin sighed. “Well, salmonella doesn’t care if the managers saw you, so at least eat the cookies that are already baked.” He flattened his parchment paper down into his pan, making sure that all was neat before he began to pour the batter. Jaemin was tired, their schedules had been intense, but for the first time that he could remember since coming to SM as a trainee, they were given Christmas eve and Christmas day off. It seemed fitting to do something productive, and if there was one thing that he really loved, it was feeding his staff and his members. (Even if his members, one in particular, could be little brats. Like the week before-- when asked in an interview which member he would date if he was a girl, he’d picked Jaemin, only to tease him the entire van ride home for blushing so hard the cameras picked it up.)

Still, Jeno had his sweet moments, too. Even though he couldn’t see the man standing behind him, when he felt a piece of food hovering in front of his lips, he opened his mouth without question, accepting the bite of freshly-baked cookie that Jeno was trying to feed him. “Mm~ I’ve outdone myself!”

“Are you going to bake anything else today? Or is this it?” Jeno had snuck another dip of his finger into the brownie batter - Jaemin only noticed when Jeno was popping it into his mouth again. “Mm. See, this is why I would date you.”

“If you were a girl. Which you’re not,” Jaemin replied, rescuing the batter from Jeno’s fingers a final time by sliding the pan into the oven. “What else could we make? There’s still time.”

“Make me fudge?” Jeno suggested with a wide grin. “No eggs, no flour. I can eat it right out of the pan before it’s set.”

“You’re going to get burned,” Jaemin retorted teasingly, opening the pantry. Leftover chocolate chips, powdered sugar, evaporated milk. “I think I can make fudge. Are you going to stick around to taste test?” He pulled the ingredients and grabbed a saucepan.

“You know it.” And Jeno  _ did _ stay close, watching with interest as Jaemin mixed the chocolate and milk over heat. The chips melted down surprisingly quickly, and Jaemin’s most important task became stirring it quickly to avoid burning. “We might not even need extra sugar. Do you think this is sweet enough?” He pulled the hot mixture from the stovetop, blowing a bit on the chocolate that was dripping from the spoon and offering it to Jeno. He took a lick, humming his approval.

“It’s plenty sweet, because you made it for me~”

“Oh my god, are you secretly filming or something? Is this a joke?” Jaemin pouted, feeling himself start to blush again. Why did he blush so easily these days? “Hurry up and put some parchment paper in that pan, so I can spread this out before it hardens.”

“Would this be somehow better if I was filming?”

“It would explain why you’re being such a damn flirt.”

“You’re blushing again! Now you’re lucky I’m not filming!” Jeno burst into laughter, presenting the prepared pan and assisting Jeno by scraping the molten chocolate mixture in with the spoon. When it was all done, Jaemin popped the tray into the fridge and glanced at the brownies to gauge their progress. When he turned back to Jeno, the taller man was leaning back against the sink, using his finger to get the last bits of brownie batter from the bowl that Jaemin had forgotten about.

" _ What are you doing?!" _

"This one turned out the best. I can't wait until they're done," Jeno replied with a grin, licking his thumb clean but then offering his index finger to Jaemin. "Live a little.”

Jaemin bit his tongue, studying Jeno for a moment. It was always hard to read his motives, whether he was teasing or serious. But boy, did he love to tease, always trying to entice Jaemin into teasing back. And with the cameras not there, for a change-- the  _ feeling _ was different. Jaemin felt a smile of his own, creeping up to the corners of his lips; then, catching Jeno off guard, he grabbed his wrist and brought the chocolate-covered digit to his lips to suck it clean.

It was exactly as weird as he thought it would be. Judging by the rosy color now filling in  _ Jeno’s _ cheeks for a change, he thought so, too. Releasing his finger, Jaemin smirked triumphantly: “You enjoyed that  _ way _ too much. You’re such a--”

A finger hooked delicately under his chin, that was the only warning there was before Jeno's mouth met Jaemin's and swallowed up the last word, whatever it had been. His lips tasted sweet, with a lingering of peppermint lip balm behind the chocolate flavor, and they were far softer than Jaemin had imagined another man's could be. When he pulled back, they were  _ both _ blushing, but as embarrassed as he was, Jaemin couldn't look away.

"I  _ did _ tell you I wanted to date you. It's not my fault you didn't believe me." Jeno shrugged, seeming unusually shy as he broke eye contact and looked down. "You're a good kisser. Although maybe I'm biased because you're making me brownies."

"You're--  _ unbelievable _ sometimes." Jaemin had been aiming for exasperation, but the confidence wasn't there, his voice trembled, and it sounded more like wonderment. He'd never thought that he'd be with a man, he'd considered himself perfectly straight, but suddenly, he was picturing their lives going forward together. They'd both be graduating from NCT Dream soon, and then what?  _ Doesn't matter what it is, I want him there. _ "This is a lot, you know. It will be a lot for us, if we-- can we think about it before we do anything rash?"

Jeno smiled - something like relief flashing into his eyes. "I'm okay with that. Can I kiss you again before the vultures come to see how many cookies they can scam you out of?"

"And what does that make you?!"

_ "Your _ vulture." Jeno's fingers found Jaemin's, twining together quite easily, and Jaemin laughed.

"Another kiss wouldn't hurt. I'll consider it a Christmas present." This time, it was Jaemin who leaned in and closed the space between them, and this time, they got lost in the kiss until the oven timer pulled them apart.


	17. Lucas/Winwin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DAY 17. LUCAS/WINWIN - Yukhei has an eye for beauty, and Sicheng in the snow is too beautiful to let pass by without telling him so.
> 
> Rated G - the vaguest mention of sex ever

Yukhei had an eye for beauty, a fascination with all things cute and lovely. His friends called him an “aesthetic whore”, he called himself an “aesthetic connoisseur”. Yukhei was more into the way the light hit a face, the way eyes changed when they smiled, how the sun filtered through the air and changed everything it touched. There was so much beauty beyond the obvious, superficial things that it astounded Yukhei that more people didn't see it.

Like the sunrise, pretty pink, framing the city skyline. Even Seoul had its charm, though it had taken Yukhei some time to get accustomed to the hustle and bustle. The park was nice, though, especially in the snow. He raised his camera to photograph the hulking white flakes as they fell through the dark trees. It was the first good snow of the year, and on Christmas morning, no less. Every bit of this was Yukhei's aesthetic.  _ Click, click. _

He didn't expect another soul to be out so early on a holiday, but ahead on the sidewalk, he could see a single figure standing in the falling snow and admiring the sunrise. He was dressed in a slim-fitting black hoodie and athletic pants, and his long, chocolate-colored bangs were pushed out of his face by a sweatband. His outfit was plain, but even from a distance, Yukhei liked his profile. Rosy cheeks, delicate nose, shapely lips. Snowflakes gathered in his dark hair.

When Yukhei began to approach, the man noticed him at last, turning with a start but then offering a polite smile and a little bow of his head. His demeanor seemed shy, but luckily, Yukhei was anything but.

“You even jog on Christmas morning? That’s dedication.”

The man smiled, crinkling his eyes softly and making the apples of his cheeks redden. “I’m surprised you can tell I’m supposed to be jogging,” he joked quietly, averting his gaze as if embarrassed. “I like to stick to my routine when it comes to working out. But we don’t get nice sunrises like this often in Seoul. It’s pretty.”

You’re pretty, Yukhei wanted to say. Too pretty to be spending Christmas alone. But he wasn’t quite  _ that _ brave. Instead, he held his camera close and bit the inside of his cheek, butterflies in his stomach. “I have a weird question,” he spoke up after a moment. “I’m a freelance photographer. I’m looking for inspiration for my next big project, and-- would you be okay with me taking your picture?”

“Mine?” His eyes went round, as though Yukhei could be talking to anyone else. “Why?”

“Because you look pretty in the snow.” Yukhei grinned. “You don’t have to look at the camera, if that feels awkward. You can pretend I’m not here, close your eyes, whatever.”

“No one’s ever asked me that before.”

“I told you it was a weird question.”

“Hm… Okay, as long as you delete them if they turn out badly?” When Yukhei nodded, he turned his gaze back out towards the sunrise, fashionably stoic. He had gorgeous eyes, long eyelashes. The light from the horizon made him glow vaguely pink.

Three pictures in, Yukhei suddenly felt his own cheeks go red, with more than the cold, and he let the camera drop briefly to give an apologetic little bow of his head. “Sorry, I feel rude. I should have told you my name. I’m Wong Yukhei.”

He broke into laughter himself, tilting his head down and bringing up his hand to hide his smile. A crime, in Yukhei’s opinion. Why did the most beautiful people not  _ realize  _ that they were beautiful? “My name’s Dong Sicheng. I would have introduced myself, too, but I was too caught up in a handsome stranger calling me pretty.”

Yukhei was no expert in the dating scene, but he knew enough to tell that Sicheng was flirting. Dangerous territory, Yukhei thought, snapping one more lovely picture in silhouette. He tended to fall in love easily and intensely. The beginning feelings were unmistakable, a ticklish spread in his chest.

“Thanks. Want to see them?” He beckoned Sicheng over and offered up the camera, letting him look at the few shots he’d gotten. They evoked the full feeling of the color pink: new mornings and soft innocence. Sicheng had gone pink again, looking at himself.

“These turned out great. Hey, if I give you my number, will you let me know what you end up doing with them? If you’re gonna display them as part of an exhibit or something, I’d like to come see.”

“Yeah, for sure!” Yukhei pulled out his phone and took down Sicheng’s number as he recited it. A second later, he sent a text, a bowl of noodles emoji.

Sicheng giggled again. “What is this?”

“Now you have my number,” Yukhei smiled innocently, shrugging. “So if you, say, find yourself lonely this evening, maybe I could buy you a meal?”

Flirting was fun, Yukhei decided, watching the smile grow out of nowhere on Sicheng’s face. “Yeah! That sounds good! I’m usually by myself on Christmas…” He blushed modestly, checking his messages on his watch once more before stating, “I should probably finish my run before the weather gets worse. But you’ll be hearing from me later. I’ve never had a guy to spend Christmas with…”

“Just text me what you want to eat, and I’ll make it happen!” Yukhei’s smile matched Sicheng’s, and he waved gently when Sicheng turned his back to depart. Yet another angle from which he looked aesthetically perfect, Yukhei noted - though he tried not to stare.

//

_ [1:46 PM] Sicheng: Have you eaten? I’m getting really hungry… _

_ [1:46 PM] Sicheng: Hot pot? _

_ [1:47 PM] Yukhei: YES its so cold _

_ [1:50 PM] Sicheng: A lot of restaurants are closed for the holiday :( _

_ [1:50 PM] Yukhei: just putting this out there but I literally have a hot pot at my house. And I have beef and chicken. I don’t own a single vegetable though _

_ [1:51 PM] Sicheng: w-what _

_ [1:52 PM] Yukhei: i’m not over here trying to be healthy _

_ [1:53 PM] Sicheng: Okkkk well I’ll bring some stuff then :) _

_ [1:54 PM] Yukhei: tea or wine? what kind of christmas are we having? _

//

Sicheng had pulled himself together for dinner: he looked so effortlessly professional in a button-up layered with a blazer and straight-cut pants, bangs pushed back with gel, face perfected with a sheen of BB cream. (Yukhei secretly thought that he looked just as adorable in his workout clothes, though he’d never say so.) He’d brought cabbage and mushrooms and noodles, and they’d worked together to quickly prepare everything to cook. They ate hot pot and drank tea and compared stories of their time in Seoul - finding out that they’d both arrived there with the intentions of becoming musicians. Sicheng was now a back-up dancer with SM Entertainment, a hopeful choreographer, while Yukhei had turned to his love of photography after failing to pass any auditions, and hoped to someday go commercial.

After dinner, it was hard to know what to do with themselves; Yukhei didn’t want Sicheng to leave just yet, he was enjoying his company too much, and so he offered another cup of tea, and Sicheng grinned and accepted.

Waiting for the water to boil, Sicheng suddenly spoke up: “Can I tell you something?”

“Well, now you kind of have to.”

Sicheng smiled nervously as he met Yukhei’s gaze, and boldly, he stated, “I wasn’t exactly sure if you invited me here because you wanted to feed me, or talk photography with me, or if you had some sort of… ulterior motive.”

Yukhei’s cheeks began to burn. He usually  _ thrived _ on flirting, but damn, it was different when he  _ meant _ it. “The first two! Mostly,” Yukhei clarified, chuckling. “No ulterior motive, except, maybe… a kiss? And if not a kiss, then a second date!”

“How about a kiss,  _ and _ a second date,” Sicheng suggested shyly, reaching out to take Yukhei’s hand in his smaller, softer one. “I was hoping I’d get a kiss, too.”

Shit, Yukhei was glad he’d thought of that second cup of tea. He felt uncharacteristically shy himself as he looked into Sicheng’s dark eyes, reaching for his other hand to hold; he was tentative in closing the distance between them, and it was Sicheng who moved forward the last few centimeters and pressed their lips together. Sicheng’s mouth still felt warm from their hot food and drink - and nonetheless, Yukhei shivered.


	18. Taeil/Jungwoo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DAY 18. TAEIL/JUNGWOO - Taeil has never gone ice skating before, but if Jungwoo wants to ice skate, then /damn it/, Taeil's going to learn how.
> 
> Rated G

Jungwoo looked so at home on the ice that it was unreal. It was like his body was made to glide back and forth, effortlessly turning and spinning, scraping to a stop without the slightest hint of uncertainty. Taeil didn’t know how anybody could manage that, least of all the person that he’d watched trip on his own feet on the way to the bathroom that morning.

Taeil was more graceful than his boyfriend when they were on their own two feet, but on the ice, he had a pretty good feeling that Jungwoo was about to win out.

After a couple warm-up laps, Jungwoo zoomed back around the rink to offer a hand to Taeil. They’d come past dark, the outdoor rink adorned with fairy lights for Christmas couples. Jungwoo had selected the location for the first part of their date (Taeil’s choice was coffee afterwards), and Taeil’s stipulation was that he wouldn’t get on the ice if there were too many people there to laugh at them. There were a good number of singles and couples sharing the ice, but at least there were no  _ children _ , Taeil’s worst fear.

“Ready? You can hold my hands while you get a feel for it,” Jungwoo promised brightly, kneeling down to double-check Taeil’s skates for him before standing to help him up off the bench.

“I didn’t realize this many people actually knew how to skate? I was always scared of falling down and breaking my skull or something,” Taeil remarked - though Jungwoo offered two hands, Taeil only took one, feeling self conscious. “I feel like a baby.”

“Oh, please. No one is judging you. If anyone is staring, it’s because we’re both so unbelievably handsome.” Jungwoo gave him a cheeky grin, and Taeil almost believed it. Funny, how Jungwoo had the power to boost his confidence like that. “Okay, ready? Keep your center of balance low. And be ready to fall, just in case.”

“Wow, great.”

“Everybody falls! Just don’t get discouraged.” Jungwoo skated easily backwards as he tugged Taeil onto the ice - and much to Taeil’s surprise, he  _ was _ able to stand on the ice without falling flat on his face. Then he shifted his weight, and nearly fell into the wall, suddenly clinging to Jungwoo for dear life. “Don’t pull me down! If you pull me down I can’t help you up!” Jungwoo laughed, bending his knees for stability as he tried to right Taeil’s balance.

“I don’t want to fall! I’m scared of heights!”

“What do you mean? You’re not even that tall!” Jungwoo went back to holding just one hand when Taeil was back on balance, pulling him along slowly in order to help build his confidence once again. “You’re doing great! Just shift your weight slowly when you turn.” This time went a bit smoother - Taeil tried to listen to Jungwoo’s instructions and watch his movements, even though he was certain that Jungwoo made it look all easier than it really was.

After one full lap of the skating rink, Taeil was starting to get a feel for things, keeping his muscles tense and ready to adjust if he began to go down.

“Are you having fun yet?”

“I’m not  _ not _ having fun,” Taeil replied, though he smiled despite the tease. “I think I’ll have more fun once I’m able to do it without holding your hand like a little kid.”

“Well, if you say so!” Jungwoo beamed with pride, which confused Taeil, until Jungwoo gave him a gentle kiss on the back of the hand and then let him go, turning his body to skate ahead and give Taeil some space. Taeil’s first instinct was to panic, but he spread his arms and managed to keep his form. “Jungwoo--!”

“Yay! You’re doing amazing!”

Keeping up speed was okay-- turning was tough, and Taeil nearly lost his footing, but recovered just in time-- “Hey, Jungwoo, you didn’t tell me how to stop?”

“Angle your feet like this, and kind of-- press down?” Jungwoo demonstrated ahead of him, though the movements were so nuanced that Taeil wasn’t exactly sure what he  _ did _ .

“Um, what?”

Jungwoo quickly set himself in motion again, and before Taeil could collide with the wall ahead, Jungwoo placed himself in the way to catch Taeil’s hands. He wasn’t going too quickly, so Jungwoo managed to stop him cleanly. “Sorry! Maybe I started you a little too quickly… but you’re doing great! I’m so proud of you!”

And then, there, in plain sight of anyone who happened to look, Jungwoo kissed him. It was quick, sweet and innocent, but for Taeil, it was still an earth shattering moment, their first kiss in a public place.  _ That’s how much he believes in us. _

“That’s okay! Show me stopping again. I want to practice it.” Taeil hadn’t been enthused at first, but he was the type who hated to back down from a challenge once it was in front of him - and maybe having his cute boyfriend as a cheerleader helped, too.

//

An hour later, wind-bitten and tired, Taeil and Jungwoo decided to simply make their way back to Taeil’s apartment for coffee. They had been dating for a little more than six months, and though they didn’t officially live together, it was easy to see bits and pieces of Jungsoo all over the apartment: his clothes in the bedroom, his favorite winter blanket on the couch, and of course, his favorite mug all ready to go next to Taeil’s on the counter. And Taeil already knew precisely how Jungwoo took his coffee, with a generous pour of milk and chocolate syrup instead of sugar (and Jungwoo had a bottle of that at Taeil’s place, too).

As they cuddled up on the couch, bathed in the soothing light of the TV and thawing their frozen fingers on their hot cups, Taeil turned to his boyfriend, gave him a superheated coffee-flavored kiss, and uttered what had been on his mind ever since Jungwoo kissed him on the ice: “I love you, Jungwoo.”

Jungwoo looked surprised for a second, but only a second; then, a grin spread out across his face, and he he kissed Taeil again in return, nearly making him drop his coffee cup with the force of it. “I love you, too! I’m so happy!”

“Really?” Taeil smiled softly. “Happy enough to… move in, maybe?”

Jungwoo’s eyes positively glowed, and Taeil got another enthusiastic kiss. “This is the best present anyone has ever given me! I hope you know that!” Snuggling up to Taeil, he added knowingly, “It’s because I plan the best dates, right? Ice skating was really fun. We should go to an amusement park next! That’s, like, my other dream date!”

“Didn’t you hear me earlier, when I said I’m scared of heights?” As Jungwoo’s head settled on his shoulder, Taeil gently kissed the top of it. It was hard for him not to kiss Jungwoo when he was so close; it had become habit.

“Yes. But  _ I’ll _ be there, so it will be fun. You’ll see.”

The funny thing was, Taeil had very little doubt that Jungwoo was right.


	19. Johnny/Renjun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DAY 19. JOHNNY/RENJUN - Johnny, in his grand tradition of holiday overkill, buys a tree that won't fit in their apartment.
> 
> Rated G

“I think I might have mentioned this before, but having a Christmas tree that touches our ceiling is kind of overkill.”

Johnny grunted, stubbornly shifting the tree more into the corner and straightening out the skirt beneath it. “It  _ brushes _ the ceiling. It’s not like it’s scraping the paint off or something.”

Renjun had to tilt his head all the way back to see the top of the tree. It was probably about two centimeters too tall, enough that the very tip was bent. He sighed. That was the thing about living with Johnny, he supposed: everything was overkill. Neither of them had gone home for Chuseok, and he’d taken the opportunity to cook a traditional Korean feast that had fed them for a week; at the beginning of October, he’d prepared for Halloween by ordering pounds of assorted American candy and decorating the apartment with tissue paper ghosts. Christmas, from Renjun’s understanding of American culture, was the biggest holiday of them all, and he was honestly a little wary of what to expect.

“How are we gonna get a star on top?”

“We’ll trim it down if we need to,” Johnny declared firmly, planting his hands on his hips as he surveyed the tree. “Let’s start with lights, though. The star has to go on last. That’s, like, a rule.” He grabbed the box of lights - which of course, being that they belonged to Johnny, had been improperly put away last year and were a tangled mess - and sat down to work out the knots in the wire. Renjun, meanwhile, stood on his toes and reached up as high as he could. Unsurprisingly, his fingertips fell short.

“I can’t reach the top of the tree. And guess what, I don’t think  _ you _ are going to be able to reach the top of the tree, either.”

“Well, then, I’ll give you a boost. It’s called teamwork.” Johnny looked up briefly and gave Renjun a smile, which hit him in all the wrong ways. Johnny was too charismatic, cuter than he had any right to be. Lately, Renjun was beginning to think he was doing it on purpose. “Anyway… how did you celebrate last year? Did you and Jeno have a tree?”

Renjun frowned a little, kneeling on the floor and busying himself with the other end of the Christmas lights. “Why all the questions about Jeno lately?” he mumbled.

“I don’t know. I guess… because I didn’t know that about you before. It’s not like it changes things between  _ us _ , it just makes me curious.”

Renjun made a face. That was something he’d been trying to avoid when he moved into the flat with Johnny that summer. All he said in explanation was that he wasn’t getting along with his roommate; the part about Jeno being his ex-boyfriend went by the wayside. That was, until Jeno began work at the coffee shop that Johnny managed. Less than a month ago, Johnny had discovered the bits of Renjun’s life that he’d chosen to omit from their conversations (not to mention the fact that Jeno  _ apparently missed him -  _ he struggled to just put that detail out of his mind completely).

“We didn’t have a tree. We were both too busy with school,” Renjun answered at last, fingers working deftly at the knots. He was quicker than Johnny by a landslide. “We had a huge snow storm on Christmas eve, remember? It was nasty outside, so we couldn’t make our dinner reservations, and we ended up staying in and making tteokbokki.” It had been nice. A lot had happened between Christmas and their break-up in June, but that memory was still a sweet one.

“Well,  _ this _ year, we’re going to have a kick-ass tree,” Johnny boasted. “And I’ll make an awesome Christmas dinner. I’m fighting the boss to close early on Christmas eve so we can start everything the night before.” Straightening out the lights at last, Johnny began to wind them through the Christmas tree’s thick branches. “I was by myself last year. The year before, I had a girlfriend, but…”

“Why don’t I ask you a million questions about your girlfriend, then?”

“Because you have better manners than I do.” Johnny grinned, his nose crinkling. Renjun couldn’t look at him. Quickly, he pushed all the lights Johnny’s way.

“You do the top, since you can reach. I’ll decorate the bottom.”

Johnny was right on one point, it was a really nice tree. Renjun did his best to distribute the metallic glass balls and candy canes evenly through the branches while Johnny fiddled with the lights up top (his fingers barely reached, which made Renjun feel less bad). When Renjun had done all he could reach, he handed decorations up to Johnny to finish the top. In the end, it all seemed so silly and elaborate, but Renjun really liked the effect of the tree in the dark, cozy living room. All that was missing was the star.

“Okay, so you need to trim off the top bit— I have these pruners you can use. And then just slip the star on and plug it into the end of the lights. The star lights up too!”

“What do you mean? You’re the one who insisted on this tree,  _ you _ do it.”

Johnny snorted. “We’ve already established that neither of us can reach on our own. So it’s either I pick you up or you pick  _ me _ up. One of those choices sounds slightly less dangerous than the other.”

_ “What?” _

“Come on.” Johnny was already kneeling - a position that reflexively made Renjun step back, stifling a nervous laugh. “I’m serious. Get on my shoulders.”

“I could just get a chair from the kitchen!” Renjun protested. “I’m scared of heights!”

Johnny rolled his eyes. “I’m not  _ that _ tall. Look, I won’t stand all the way up. And I’ll hold onto you.” Grinning, he then resorted to the one thing that never failed: a good old-fashioned taunt. “If you’re scared of  _ these _ kind of heights, you’re lucky you’re so small.”

“You’re— ugh. Give me those shears.” Renjun snatched up the pruning shears from the table and carefully positioned himself so that he could be lifted on Johnny’s shoulders. “If you drop me, I’m stabbing you with these on the way down.”

“Noted.” Johnny gripped Renjun’s thighs tightly in response. “Ready? I’m gonna lift you now. Trim the top of the tree, then hand me down the shears,  _ carefully _ , and I’ll pass you the star.”

“You’re going to let go of me?” Renjun was shaking, and that fact made him flush in embarrassment. There was no way Johnny couldn’t feel it. He groaned, trying not to think of all that could go wrong as he hacked off the tip of the tree, giving it a few centimeters of clearance. “Like that?”

“I can’t lift my head to see! Trim a lot, though. This star is huge.”

“ _ Why _ did you get this tree? You’re an asshole!” Renjun moved the shears lower, though the wood was thicker here and harder to cut. It took a bit more time, enough for Johnny to call up and ask what the hold-up was, only to be cursed out a second time.

Finally, they made the exchange for the star, and Renjun steeled himself for the final part, Luckily, the star fastened easily onto the tree, and when he plugged it into the lights, it glowed beautifully. He breathed a sigh of relief. “Done! Now  _ let me down, let me down,  _ for the love of—”

“You’re so dramatic. I can’t believe people tell  _ me _ I’m dramatic,” Johnny joked, lowering himself once more so that Renjun could climb off of him. His legs shaking, he nearly fell into the tree, when he gained his footing; it was only Johnny’s hands, quickly gripping onto his hips, that stopped him. Then, just as Renjun’s heart rate began to slow, Johnny’s arms slipped loosely around his waist, pulling him into a tentative back-hug.

“I wouldn’t have let you fall.”

Renjun closed his eyes, feeling warm from head to toe. Maybe it was adrenaline making him weird, or maybe it was the romance of the Christmas lights, but he was content in the warmth of his roommate’s embrace, and he leaned carefully back against his chest.

“Are you sure nothing’s changed?” he asked softly.

“In what way?”

“Since you know that I like boys,” Renjun clarified boldly. They hadn’t much talked about it, and it still felt weird to say aloud.

“Honestly? It _does_ feel a little different. But in a good way.” Johnny’s breath tickled the back of Renjun’s neck as he spoke, and Renjun felt butterflies into his stomach when Johnny  _ hid his face in his hair _ . It was the first time he’d ever seen the man embarrassed by  _ anything.  _ "I like spending time with you. I like talking with you. I've never been with a guy before, but… that doesn't stop me from wondering where things could go if we ever…"

The admission, and the way Johnny shyly trailed off, made Renjun smile. "You know, people usually date and then move in together. Not the other way around."

"Haha. Very funny." Johnny loosened his hold on Renjun, leaving the next move to him. Still, he stayed close, whispering, "It's definitely more romantic in here with the tree lit up. That's why Christmas is prime cuddling season."

"It is," Renjun said softly, feeling frozen for a second when Johnny lost contact with him.  _ This could change everything. _ He wasn't usually much of a risk taker, but-- there  _ was _ something to be said for the adrenaline that came with it. Suddenly his heart was racing again, and he spoke before he could back out: "Kiss me, then. And if it's weird, then we'll go back to how we were and never mention it again."

Johnny smiled.  _ Cute _ , so cute. Renjun just had to lower his eyes, but a gentle finger tilted his chin back up, just before Johnny's lips found his own. It was an unexpectedly shy kiss, from the king of no verbal filter - it was Renjun who closed the space between their bodies and wrapped his arms around Johnny's shoulders.

There was no need to stop and ask if it felt right. Bathed in the brilliance of the Christmas lights, everything felt perfect.


	20. Mark/Haechan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DAY 20. MARK/HAECHAN - Mark attempts to shovel the driveway on Christmas morning, but Donghyuck affirms that Christmas is for /couples/.
> 
> Rated T for sexy smooches and implied sex :)

Mark was beginning to feel like he shouldn't have taken Donghyuck back to Toronto with him. Sure, Seoul was crowded and expensive and noisy, and sure, their trainee dorms had been on the 14th floor of a skyscraper (10 boys crammed into a 2 bedroom apartment - no better way to get close with your boyfriend), but they could have just packed up the idol dream and moved to the suburbs together.

One thing was for sure, Mark couldn't remember Seoul ever getting dumped on by two feet of snow on Christmas morning. Their shitty townhouse setup didn't offer a garage, just a shitty single driveway where Mark's shitty red Beetle was covered in snow up past its headlights. Donghyuck's shitty retail job started at 8 AM the next day, of course, because shelves didn't stock themselves.

Straight out of bed, determined, Mark suited himself up to brave the cold and get the shoveling done. Donghyuck, still in nothing but his robe and slippers, sighed as he looked out the window. "You don't have to do this now. Come back to bed," he murmured, turning to adjust Mark's hat for him on top of his head. “I wasn’t done cuddling you.”

"I might as well. The snow is supposedly done for the day. Then we won't have to worry." He turned to kiss Donghyuck on the forehead. "Besides, I'm not going to the gym today. I could use the exercise."

“It’s below zero out there, so don’t stay out too long! You do one half and I’ll do the other.”

Mark had to smile glancing back at Donghyuck, naked under his robe with sleep still heavy in his eyes. No way was he agreeing to that, but he let Donghyuck think that he’d won. “Put on coffee, okay? We’ll do presents when I get back inside.”

It hadn’t really registered with Mark that Donghyuck had said  _ below zero _ until he stepped out the door and violently shivered. Damn, it was  _ cold _ . They only had one shovel, with a metal handle, of course - even through his gloves, Mark could tell that it would eventually become a pain in the ass.

He had to shovel his way off the porch, for starters, and the snow was heavy. This was one of the things that Mark hadn’t missed much about Toronto, except he was no longer an athletic teenager, he was a twenty year old working an office job who made it to the gym three times a week at best. Still, the fact that he was doing it for Donghyuck gave him a sense of superhuman strength as he started into the driveway, chipping away at the snow bank between himself and the car. He would have done anything, anything at  _ all _ for Donghyuck. Donghyuck was the whole reason that they were there, that they were clawing their way through together. Because Donghyuck had stuck around.

“ _ Oi! _ ” Mark shivered, glancing up to the porch at the sound of Donghyuck’s cry. He hadn’t heard him calling, with all the effort he was putting into the job at hand. “Come inside!” Donghyuck ordered, leaning on the porch railing. “You’re going to freeze your butt off out here. I told you, I’ll do half later. Quit trying to be a hero.”

“I’m fine!” Mark insisted, tossing another shovel-load of snow into the yard. He’d actually been working fairly quickly, though he could no longer feel his fingers. The driveway was done, though the car was still piled with snow.“I’m almost done! Go inside and be warm!”

Donghyuck smiled, charmed despite everything, but he still folded his arms and shivered, standing stubbornly put. “I’m going to stand out here until you listen to me. We're both going to get frostbite!”

“All right, all right!” Mark was secretly relieved when he was pressured to stop early. As much as he wanted to make things easy for his boyfriend, he was craving a nice hot cup of coffee more than he’d thought possible. Still, he paused in taking off his wet winter gear once Donghyuck closed the door, making a face at him. “You’re a brat.”

“You don’t need to baby me just because I’m one year younger than you,” Donghyuck scolded gently, taking the gloves and hat from Mark’s hands and kissing his cold nose. His hands flinched at first when he felt Mark’s cold fingers, and he set his wet clothes aside altogether so that he could clasp his fingers in his own, bringing them up to his mouth to breathe on them. Mark instantly shivered in pleasure, closing his eyes.

“That’s not why I do it. I do it because I love you, and because you make my life so much better, and because you love me enough to do this crazy thing with me.”

Donghyuck smiled faintly, his lips pressing against Mark's cold fingers and making him jump. "I love you, too. But you baby me all the time. Just for today, let me baby you." He kissed his knuckles again, kissed his cold fingertips. Mark couldn't help it, his lips sought out Donghyuck's without thinking, and he felt his boyfriend smirk into the kiss. "What, you're cold here, too? Where else are you cold?"

"What happened to coffee and presents, anyway?"

"Coffee can be reheated." Donghyuck’s hands had moved on, up Mark’s arms to his shoulders, and his lips brushed against Mark’s cheek on their way to his ear. The sudden warmth of a tongue on his cold earlobe, teeth tugging mischievously, had him weak in the knees. “And your present is upstairs. Like I said, I’m not done cuddling you.” Donghyuck’s mouth broke away from the edge of Mark’s jaw, just when he’d hoped it was about to make its way down his neck, where he was the most sensitive. The sleep was most certainly gone from his eyes, and he gave Mark an impatient tug towards the staircase. “Coming or not?”

“Well, when you put it that way, I guess I have no choice, do I?” Mark grinned, giving Donghyuck a playful push to lead the way. After all, Donghyuck always got his way, one way or another.


	21. Taeyong/Jaehyun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DAY 21. TAEYONG/JAEHYUN - At first, what Taeyong had with Jaehyun was all about surrender, catharsis, release - but now, it's all about being his /good little pet/.
> 
> RATED T THIS ONES A LIL STEAMY OK... D/s dynamics, non-graphic sex and bondage

Taeyong was no stranger to stress. Jumping from high school to university to the corporate world, climbing the ranks faster than he had any business doing so. (He’d be the first one to admit it - SM Entertainment VP of Marketing at age twenty-six? Dumb, dumb luck.) At work, he always needed to be perfect, always needed to be  _ on _ , always needed to have the right answers. Bad decisions were expensive to the company. A bad first impression, a slip of the tongue, could make or break billion-won brand deal. And in order to maintain perfection, Taeyong needed to maintain control over every single thing that went on in his department, three hundred and sixty five days a year.

That was what made Jaehyun such a treasure to him. With Jaehyun, he wasn’t just allowed to come undone, it was expected of him. Jaehyun could read him like a book and give him exactly what he needed, be it a firm hand or a soft touch. He was embarrassed by it, at first, this intrinsic desire that he felt to  _ surrender _ control, but that was only until Jaehyun got a hold of him and showed him that, for the sake of his mental health, he  _ needed _ it.

_ “I need it. Please…” _

_ “I can see that.”  _ Jaehyun chuckled. Taeyong couldn’t see him with the blindfold secured across his eyes, and that only enhanced the shudder that shook him when Jaehyun’s index finger traced over the front of his boxers. Handcuffs tightened against the headboard, and Taeyong could only sigh in frustration and lift up his hips. “ _ But I’m going to have my fun first, how about that?” _ That same finger brushed against his bottom lip, and Taeyong’s lips parted on pure instinct. Jaehyun chuckled, obvious approval.  _ “That’s my good little pet… beautiful.” _

A simple phrase, but one that made Taeyong turn instantly into goo, totally compliant while a soft silicone gag was fitted between his lips. No matter what happened at work, no matter what bullshit he’d be walking into the next morning-- there, in Jaehyun’s bed, he was beautiful and he was treasured, Jaehyun’s  _ good little pet _ .

At first it had been just about the sex, the release, the catharsis; he couldn’t pinpoint when he began to depend on those sessions with Jaehyun and all the things they made him feel. He definitely remembered calling him drunk, though, on the verge of breakdown, and crying upon hearing his voice. Taeyong had an early-morning engagement, he couldn’t drive out to meet Jaehyun that night, but he needed what he could get over the phone.

_ “I want you to say it. Say the thing.” _

Jaehyun hadn’t laughed. Not even a little.  _ “Why are you crying? I can barely understand you. Listen to my voice and take deep breaths. You’re fine. You’re doing just fine, kitten.” _

_ “I don’t feel fine. I feel like shit when you’re not with me.” _

After months of what felt like casual fucking, it only took this earnest confession to flip everything around. Jaehyun was the one who made the long trip through the chilly November night to see Taeyong, and with no expectation of sex, either. It was after midnight, they were both tired, but Jaehyun embraced him and pet him and made him feel like the world’s most delicate treasure, and Taeyong knew that nothing would ever be the same.

//

Sex was good, aftercare was better. Jaehyun’s lips were hot along his collarbones, making him shiver all over again in a whole new way. Taeyong stretched, satisfyingly tired and sore when the last of his bonds were undone and allowed to fall against the bedposts. Everything felt hazy and blissful.

“Ice cubes were a mean trick,” Taeyong finally reported, ignoring the fact that Jaehyun’s lips were tracing those ice cube’s same lines, down his chest, over his nipple, across lovely expanses of smooth muscled flesh. He hadn't expected anything _cold_ with his blindfold on, and he blushed when he replayed his own mewl of surprise in his head. “It’s snowing! It’s already cold out!”

“I didn’t hear much complaining  _ during _ , kitten,” Jaehyun teased, kissing the divet between his pectorals, right over his heart. Still, his eyes flashed to the window at Taeyong’s observation, and his moonlit face brightened with his smile. “You don’t have to work tomorrow, right? Spend the night with me.”

“Tomorrow’s Christmas. If SM wants me tomorrow, they’re going to have to pry me away from you.”

“That’s right, you’re all mine!” Up to his other collarbone, to his shoulder, to the quickly bruising flesh were his teeth had marked Taeyong. Now, he only peppered the skin with kisses, arms slipping easily around Taeyong’s waist as he settled down beside him.  _ He’s so warm. _ Jaehyun’s body heat was lulling Taeyong’s eyes closed, and he tried to rouse himself when he heard Jaehyun speak, not wanting to miss a word.

“I got a present for you, and I was going to wait for tomorrow, but I’m not good at waiting for surprises. They make me antsy.” Jaehyun kissed Taeyong’s forehead softly. “What do you say, love?”

“Is that even a question? Of course I want it now,” Taeyong smirked, clinging stubbornly to his boyfriend. The pet name only occurred to him after, and it made his heart suddenly leap into his throat. _He didn’t mean that. He said it by accident. Or maybe I misheard him._ _Pet_ still lit him up, but _love_ \--

“Hold on. One second…” Jaehyun reached for the table beside the bed, fumbling with the small drawer in the front. The box that Taeyong caught a glimpse of was too long to be a ring box, and yet the thrill of seeing what it  _ was _ didn’t go anywhere.   


“Is it a necklace?”

“Didn’t I tell you to hold on?” Jaehyun’s voice took on a stern edge, and a moment later, he ordered, “Close your eyes.”

“Yes, sir.” The answer was immediate and practiced and warm with feeling. Taeyong felt like his body was buzzing with anticipation as something soft and snug slipped around the base of his neck, fastening with a secure click.

“It’s perfect, kitten,” Jaehyun cooed softly, while Taeyong reached up to touch his throat. The side against his neck was soft fur, while his fingers met with strong leather. He didn’t need to look to see that it was a collar, but suddenly he  _ wanted _ to, and he fumbled for the light quickly and sat up to grab his phone, for use as a mirror.

“I didn’t get you a tag. I wasn’t sure what you’d want it to say,” Jaehyun continued on, with the first real hint of insecurity that Taeyong had heard from him. “Or if you’d even wear it if it had anything like that. But I wanted to give you something to make you think of me when we’re not together. Chokers are back ‘in’.”

Taeyong couldn’t help it, he took a picture. He was  _ that _ happy, that enamored with the sight. It was better than an engagement ring; it was a reminder of how much Taeyong was cherished, enough that Jaehyun wanted him to be his and nobody else’s.

“But I want a tag. Will you take me to get one?”

Jaehyun smirked, pulling Taeyong gently back down to the mattress for another steamy kiss. Somewhere along the way, Taeyong’s exhaustion had melted away; he felt hot all over, ready to go another round. “You want that? ‘Kitten’?” he teased softly.

“I  _ do _ like that. It makes me feel like I’m home, every time I hear it,” Taeyong whispered, feeling his cheeks redden. “But if it’s a choice… I’m also partial to ‘love’.”

Jaehyun blushed, too, something Taeyong didn’t think he would ever get to see in the bedroom. And as much as Jaehyun could affect him with steely eyes, a strong hand fastened in his hair - he could make Taeyong feel weak with that sweet smile of his, too.

“Good. That might be one of my new favorites, too.” Jaehyun’s thumb caressed his cheekbone, an endearingly delicate little touch, and Taeyong thought as he curled up against Jaehyun’s chest: there was no greater turn-on, no greater joy, than knowing yourself to be precious.


	22. Doyoung/Taeil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DAY 22. DOYOUNG/TAEIL - Taeil pretends to get drunk to escape the office Christmas party with his favorite coworker, but his plans are thwarted when he gets ACTUALLY drunk in front of the man he wants to kiss.
> 
> Rated G-ish, nothing but drinking xD

Doyoung hated that work parties were obligations. And Christmas parties--  _ ugh. _ Doyoung despised Christmas, and he couldn’t think of anything he hated  _ more _ than drinking with his coworkers. What he  _ actually _ wanted to do on Christmas eve was go home and sleep the next day away, because this Christmas, like every other, he was single. ( _ The same stretch of singleness as last Christmas. _ ) The thing that made it all bearable was watching his one and only office friend, Moon Taeil, getting progressively drunker across from him.

To be honest, Taeil was a lot of what made his job bearable  _ anyway.  _ Doyoung had gone to school for business in order to be a CEO, not a pawn in the machine, working in the sales department of an electronics company. The best thing about his day, for sure, was exchanging deadpan looks with Taeil at their morning meetings and struggling not to laugh at how animated and passionate their boss was about  _ office synergy  _ and  _ proactive management _ . They had an entire communication system worked out in raised eyebrows and discreetly rolled eyes. Throughout the day, they took advantage of the office’s instant messaging to relay important information across the space between their desks:  _ “The office clock is 4 minutes slow wtf!”, “The stupid intern just threw the outgoing mail in the paper shredding bin”, “Idk if the new HR guy is actually cute or if I just have a thing for really tall guys", “Hey can you stab me in the eye with a pencil so they'll send me home?” _

In their gray little office space, Doyoung rarely even saw Taeil crack a smile, but seated at the bar with the rest of the sales team, he was unexpectedly all red cheeks and laughter. Doyoung knew for a fact that Taeil thought every last one of these guys was a prick, but he still spoke politely and refilled their drinks and sipped his own cup when it was filled in return. Amazing, how alcohol could change people.

Doyoung's phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out to give it a glance.  _ "Going out for 'smoke'. Come check on me in 2 minutes and we'll get out of here." _

Doyoung's eyes widened, and he glanced up sharply from his phone - Taeil, acting skills admirable, was laughing at a story the drunk sales manager next to him was telling.  _ "Ok??" _ True to his word, Taeil stood up, wobbled on his feet, and announced that he needed to duck outside for a cigarette. Someone asked him if he was sure he was okay, but he shrugged them off easily, keeping that easy-going, drunken smile on his face. “I’ll be  _ fine _ . I’ll be back in less than a minute.”

Doyoung finished his drink, eyeing the clock on his phone to time things out. He’d been sipping his soju slowly, pacing himself, laughing a bit more loudly than necessary and wondering how early was too early to leave without being rude. Finally, biting the bullet and draining the rest of his glass, he announced that he was going to check on Taeil, and he kept himself steady as he stepped outside.

Taeil was shivering a bit, winter coat zipped up to his chin, and he quirked an eyebrow at Doyoung when he finally emerged. “You look drunker than me!”

“Yeah, I pinched my cheeks when no one was looking to make myself look flushed.” Doyoung chuckled. “How are  _ you _ doing? I watched you down, like four drinks in a row. I didn’t realize you were so good at drinking, hyung!”

“It take a lot to get me drunk,” Taeil answered with confidence, though he wobbled on his feet as he pushed himself off the wall. “I had six, though, not four. I actually  _ do _ like being drunk, but not with these people.”

“Uh, on second thought… don’t you think I should walk you home? Otherwise, you might not get there in one piece.” Doyoung laughed quietly, slipping an arm around Taeil’s shoulders. He was suddenly acutely aware of the fact that, while he  _ felt _ like he knew Taeil pretty well, they’d never really been so  _ close _ before. Their desks faced each other, but they did most of their talking through the computer screen. Occasionally they would exchange words in the break room, or rarely eat lunch together, but in a space where anyone could hear them, Taeil was cheerful and proper, not candid like Doyoung knew him. Suddenly, being face to face - having his  _ arm  _ around him - he felt a little strange.

“I’m fine. Doyoung, I’ll be  _ fine _ .”

“What if you’re not?” Doyoung answered with a straight face - the trademark of his sense of humor. “What if you get mugged on the way home? Or you get arrested for peeing in someone’s yard and the company fires you? I could get to work on December 26th and find someone completely different sitting in the desk across from me. Potentially someone that clears their throat obnoxiously all day long, or uses lots of tissues and piles them up on the edge of their desk.”

“Gross!”

“That’s exactly why we need to get you home. I like you.”

“Mm.” Doyoung was a little surprised when Taeil let his head fall back against his arm. “I like you, too. Y’know, I never realized this before, because I see you sitting for 95% of the day, but you’re kind of tall.”

“Am I?” Doyoung couldn’t keep from sounding doubtful.

“You are. And I like tall guys, remember?”

Doyoung snorted. It had been a balancing act, the first few months of working together, with both of them having their suspicions about the other but not talking enough to verify it - it was Doyoung who finally came out, admitting that he was still single because gay dating was just too much hassle, and this unlocked the floodgates of Taeil sending him EXO thirst tweets and openly pining after his HR cutie. Who Doyoung could verify  _ was _ pretty cute. “What happened to the guy you’ve been eye-fucking for the last several months whenever he walks through the office?”

Taeil laughed. “Well, for starters, he’s married. He’s fun to think about, but it’s not like I actually want him.” He pointed ahead to the apartment building up the sidewalk, adding, “This is my place. Do you wanna come up? I’ll make you coffee.”

“ _ I’ll _ make  _ you _ coffee, so you don’t burn your hands off.”

“Ha. Maybe you’re right.” Taeil grinned, a big toothy grin that was so different than the usual polite half-smile he saw across the office. “It’s on the third floor. Let’s take the elevator. My legs are being stupid.”

Taeil’s apartment was a studio, much like Doyoung’s, but even so he had it decorated nicely, giving it a warm sort of feeling. There were Christmas lights bordering the windows and the television, a small Christmas tree adorned with glass bulbs--  _ he must just like Christmas, if he put them up for himself.  _ It suddenly made him wish that he knew a bit more about the person that Taeil was, behind the robotic office worker, behind even the raised eyebrows from across the office and the snarky instant messages. Doyoung just had a feeling that the person caught in the center, the  _ true _ Taeil with no filters, was absolutely beautiful. “I like your place,” he said simply, following Taeil to the kitchenette and putting some water in the electric kettle, while Taeil got the french press set to go.

“Thanks! I just put up the lights last night,” Taeil admitted with a little laugh. “In case… well, you know.”

“In case?”

“In case…” Taeil giggled, covering his mouth instinctively with his hand. “This is going to sound stupid. Are you ready?”

“ Definitely. You know I live for stupid.”

“Okay,  _ well… _ ” Taeil pressed his lips together for a moment, a nervous habit, before he admitted, “My original plan was to pretend to be drunk so we could leave, bring you here, have a nice romantic atmosphere-- which I think I did a pretty  _ damn _ good job on…” He gestured to the lights, and the tree twinkling in the corner, “...and then I was going to kiss you.  _ But! _ I did not plan on  _ actually _ getting drunk, which is obviously what happened, and I don’t feel confident that I’m smooth enough to kiss you right now.”

Doyoung had to turn and look at Taeil, then, to see if there was any hint of teasing in his eyes, the usual quirked eyebrow. There wasn’t. He was busying himself with getting down mugs - he had to stand on his toes to reach them from the top cabinet shelf, but despite his focus, he still seemed to wear a blush on his face. There were so many questions he had, so many things he wished made enough sense to say aloud--  _ Why me, when you spend nine hours a day staring at my stupid face from across the office? Why me, when you thirst after guys like Sehun and Chanyeol? Why me, when you’re so damn beautiful yourself? _ His own thoughts had him shaken, and all he could think to say was, “Even if it’s not smooth… you can kiss me. If you want. I won’t judge, or anything, because… you’re drunk. So…”

“I just don’t want to mess anything up? But I also don’t want to spend Christmas alone. I  _ really _ don’t.”

“Yeah, me either. So kiss me.”

“You’re not going to hate me when we go back to work in two days, right? Or, like… judge me on my kissing ability? Because I  _ am _ actually pretty hammered.”

“Hyung, oh my  _ god. _ ” Doyoung sighed, but he couldn’t suppress his smile. If Taeil wasn’t going to make the move, he’d have to make it himself - and his aim would probably be better. He leaned in and slipped an arm around Taeil’s waist, worried at first that he was going to be awkward from so many kissless years past - but when their lips met, there was nothing awkward about it, just soft and sweet and warm, the light taste of soju, the tip of Taeil’s nose pressed against his own and still cold from the walk home. For a drunk first kiss, it was pretty much perfect, and now it was Doyoung’s turn to be awkward when he pulled away and could think of nothing to say besides: “Woah.”

“Yeah. Same.” Taeil smiled gently, hands sliding boldly onto Doyoung’s shoulders--  _ shit _ , he liked this out-of-work Taeil, he liked him a  _ lot _ . Dating within their department was almost certainly frowned upon, but that didn’t mean that Taeil wasn’t worth it. As if reading his mind, Taeil commented, “We could go for drinks after work sometime. Just the two of us. I promise I won’t have six of them next time.”

Doyoung had to laugh, forehead resting gently against Taeil’s. “Good. Sounds like a date.”


	23. Renjun/Jaemin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 23. RENJUN/JAEMIN - NCT is this growing, fluctuating entity, forever changing; it pushes Renjun and Jaemin apart, sometimes, but then it pushes them back together.
> 
> Rated T for language I suppose

It was dark outside, being so early, and bitterly cold. Fans still waited for Renjun and Chenle outside the airport in Seoul, despite it being 7 AM on Christmas day. Their damn fans, they waited like it was their _ job _ . On any other day, Renjun might have been more incredulous, but his sleep deprived brain could only focus on one thing. Absentmindedly, he waved to his fans, threw a couple hearts and a tired smile as he let his manager load their luggage into the company van.

"We're headed to the company building?" The driver asked, as Renjun slid open the door and got himself comfortable in the backseat. It was Chenle who answered for them both, and Renjun silently let his head fall back and his eyes close. He hadn't gotten any sleep on the plane, and he'd been lacking it to begin with, ever since he'd moved to China to take his spot with WayV. He was on his way to rehearsal for NCT 2022's New Year's stage - but his brain was nothing but a fog. That was, until his phone pinged in his pocket.

_ [7:32 AM] Jaemin♥♥♥: I slept in my studio last night. I’ll stay here until dance rehearsal starts. If you get in early, come find me so I can smooch you :D _

“Chenle?” Renjun glanced over to his groupmate, switching effortlessly into Mandarin - the manager who had met them at the airport was Korean, and he noticed the twitch of the man’s mouth at the sound of their native tongue. What would he do, scold SM’s biggest moneymakers like children? The realization made Chenle grin.

“Yes,  _ gege _ ?”

“I’m going to try to slip away for a moment when we get inside. I’m going to try and see him. You’ll cover for me, won’t you?”

There was something unexpectedly gentle in Chenle’s face as he nodded. Normally, the kid couldn’t treat anything seriously, but when it came to Renjun and Jaemin, things were different. After all, Chenle had been the first one to point it out,  _ You love Jaemin. It’s obvious to everyone. You’re not going to keep it to yourself, are you? _

“Are you finally going to kiss him?” he teased quietly, making Renjun blush. “This is your first time back in Korea since you confessed to him. You must be nervous!”

“What are you two talking about?” Their manager finally asked with a curious glance.

“How we need to get some coffee when we make it to the SM building. The cups we got on the plane were full of grounds,” Chenle answered without missing a beat. “Some ‘first class’, right?”

_ [7:38 AM] Renjun: Don’t go anywhere! We’ll be there soon _

_ [7:38 AM] Renjun: I have something for you too _

_ [7:38 AM] Renjun: I’ve been on an airplane literally since 4 AM so please forgive me if I’m a mess _

_ [7:39 AM] Jaemin♥♥♥: I don’t care! Nothing will stop me from wanting to see my boyfriend in person~ _

They parted ways when they got to the building - Chenle going with their manager to the practice rooms, Renjun offering to go to the cafe and get coffees for the three of them. Hopefully neither of them noticed him veering off for the elevator instead; he couldn’t wait, jamming the call button impatiently. He had been to Jaemin’s personal studio a couple of times - he’d begun producing music upon graduating from NCT Dream - but Chenle was right, he’d only told Jaemin his feelings that summer, after over a year of working in China and wondering why he was so lonely. Ever since, he’d been working in Shanghai and touring the world. They’d had so many wonderful conversations, by text or video call, but they’d still never kissed or even held hands as a couple. They’d never exchanged gifts, and now-- Renjun clutched the ring box in his pocket tight, having to remind himself to breathe. This was too much stress for 8 AM.

Jaemin’s studio was small, but he still got a nameplate on the door and a keypad. Renjun took another deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair before he entered in the five-digit code that Jaemin had texted him. The lock clicked open, but it was Jaemin who opened the door, and yanked him inside by the arm with an excited squeal. “Merry Christmas! I’m so happy you’re here!” he exclaimed, pulling Renjun in for a tight hug. Jaemin was the perfect height for Renjun to lay his head against his shoulder, and the perfect height for him to pop up onto his toes and kiss. He’d imagined their first kiss countless times, but it was all nothing compared to the real thing. Suddenly Renjun was no longer tired and grumpy and stressed; suddenly he didn’t want to do anything except hide in Jaemin’s locked studio and kiss the day away.

Still, that wasn’t exactly a choice  _ just _ yet. Renjun pulled back reluctantly, feeling himself unwillingly blush. It was strange, getting first-crush butterflies in boyfriend of nearly a year. “We actually need to hurry and go buy coffee for Chenle as thanks for covering up for us…”

“Okay!” Jaemin agreed brightly. “Our schedule only runs until 4 today, it won’t be so bad. Let’s try to slip away quickly once they dismiss us, okay? I need to take you to your Christmas present~”

“Oh my god. Why do you say it so ominously like that?”

“Because I want to take you out for a date more than anything in the world, but I know that I can’t, so instead I  _ might  _ have, uh… booked us a five-star suite for the week that you’re here?” Jaemin smiled sweetly, exuding that same innocence that had captured Renjun’s heart during their days as teammates. “We can cuddle in bed and order room service… and stuff.”

It was hard to even fathom any kind of  _ stuff _ when they’d barely shared their first kiss - Renjun had to rectify that by kissing Jaemin again, hands cupping his cheeks. Rehearsal almost seemed unimportant in comparison. Coffee? What coffee? In fact, the team assembling in the practice room seemed unimportant until Renjun’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he reluctantly broke away to check it.

_ [8:03 AM] Chenle: the choreographer is here, get the dick out of your mouth and hurry up _

“Woah, Chenle talks to you like he’s your hyung,” Jaemin pointed out, reading the message with surprising ease upside down. “Well, you heard him. Idols don’t get Christmas off, I guess.”

“Nope, just Christmas night,” Renjun replied with a smirk. Christmas night, who could ask for a better time to give someone a ring? The thought made him buzz with anticipation, and he had to avert his eyes, or else risk giving himself away. “And tomorrow morning. Someone told me the whole group was getting breakfast somewhere,  _ but-- _ ”

“Room service is just as good,” Jaemin finished for him, taking him by the hand and leading the way back out the door. “Anyway, it’s not like there aren’t  _ forty  _ of us now. Who’s even going to count?”


	24. Chenle/Jeno

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DAY 24. CHENLE/JENO - Chenle and Jeno's romantic ski retreat is hit with a snow storm that pushes them even closer.

Jeno didn’t have much, so that made it even weirder to go anywhere with Chenle’s family, even in high school, before they became a couple. Fancy dinners which he wasn’t even allowed to contribute money towards - Mrs. Zhong would wave his card away with her hand, smile and insist that he was their guest and that they were happy to pay. When they went shopping, Jeno made an effort not to look at any expensive items too closely, or else Chenle might be giving it to him a week later, smiling softly to himself and insisting that he “just happened” to think of Jeno when he saw it. Over the summer, he’d been dragged along to Hawaii (he enjoyed himself, but he hated how ungodly nice their hotel room was, and since they’d been dating a few weeks, Chenle had taken it upon himself to shower Jeno with lavish gifts and amazing food  _ the entire time _ ). When he was invited to go to China and spend three days at a ski resort with Chenle and his parents, he knew that not having any equipment or money would not be a factor in his answer.

Still, even if he was “dragged” there, Jeno was glad that he went. Going anywhere with Chenle was magic, because his boyfriend made him feel like a prince. The moments alone were especially magical - sharing a kiss at the top of a mountain was something Jeno never thought he’d do with anyone, and it was pretty damn special, even though the fog from their breath froze instantly on their ski goggles.

Jeno wasn't used to such cold, though, which permeated even his ski clothes. As soon as they returned to the family cabin at the end of the day, Jeno couldn't think about eating or even having coffee without first showering, restoring blood flow in his frozen fingers and toes. Chenle sent him with an oversized, hotel-quality towel and his own cashmere robe. (He'd only ever seen Chenle wear it when they had their late night video calls; the sight immediately evoked warm memories of Chenle whispering into his webcam, covering his giggles with his hand, trying not to disturb his parents in the next room.) "Go get yourself warm! I'll leave you some coffee," Chenle promised, giving Jeno a kiss on the cheek.

For the first few minutes, anyway, the shower was perfect. Nice pressure, boiling hot water. Jeno felt soothed to his soul, and suddenly mushier than ever over his boyfriend, who always made the most romantic things happen for them. He couldn’t keep himself from smiling, turning to let the hot water hit his face.  _ I should man up and tell him how I feel. _ The word had been floating around in the atmosphere between them, and Jeno had nearly said it a time or two, but it always seemed like the wrong time, like maybe they were going too fast. After all, Jeno was Chenle’s first boyfriend. It had been roughly six months since their first date - did people fall in love in six months? People always treated young love like some kind of joke, but  _ damn,  _ it felt real to Jeno. Anytime they had to be apart, Jeno found himself counting the moments until they would see each other again, because the moments without him were just so  _ dull _ . Chenle's smile illuminated everything. Chenle was--

Jeno’s train of thought was cut short by sudden pitch-black darkness. The overhead light was out, and the bathroom had no windows.  _ If the power’s out, the hot water is limited. _ Thinking as quickly as he could, Jeno hurried to rinse the soap off himself and fumbled for the water dials, but it was awfully hard to do when you couldn’t see  _ anything _ .

There was a brief knock on the door, and a second later, the flashlight from Chenle’s phone was illuminating the small room as well as it could. “Are you okay? My parents think the wind knocked a power line down,” he explained apologetically. “We have a back-up generator. My dad’s trying to figure out how to get it running.”

“Thanks for not leaving me to slip and break my skull in here,” Jeno joked, trying to cover up the fact that the sudden darkness  _ did _ have him shaken just a little. Finding the faucets and turning them off, he tentatively slid open the frosted glass door and felt for his towel, and catching Chenle’s eyes made him blush.

“Why are you trying to look at me?!”

“I’m not trying to look at you! You just--  _ happen _ to be naked,” Chenle shot back, flustered. “But, I mean, what are you worried about me seeing? You think you look bad enough naked for me to stop liking you?”

“No! It’s just… weird.” Jeno took an extra second drying himself off, since the bathroom was still steamed-up and warm. He didn’t want Chenle to notice his burning cheeks and ears, to have any more ammo to tease him with. “Okay. Pass me your robe.” Even  _ saying _ it made him blush, but Chenle said nothing as he passed it into the shower. It was shockingly soft, and when Jeno pressed his face into it, the lingering smell of Chenle’s soap made him blush all over again.

When Jeno was finally decent, and able to wield his own phone light, he made his way over to the room he and Chenle were sharing. He could hear Chenle’s parents downstairs, speaking to one another in Mandarin that he could only understand bits and pieces of. “Oh…” Chenle trailed behind Jeno, but stayed obediently at the doorway and kept his eyes on his phone as he translated, “There’s something wrong with the generator. We might not have any electricity until we get the line repaired tomorrow. No one will come all the way up the mountain at this hour…”

“Uh-oh. I hope it doesn’t get too cold.” Jeno slipped his feet into his slippers; the hardwood floors were beautiful, but unfortunately, very cold already.

“We’ll be okay because there’s a fireplace in the living room!” Chenle assured him brightly. “We can bring some blankets and pillows down and sleep next to it! Sounds romantic, right?”

“You’re such a sap,” Jeno teased, leaning in to peck Chenle on the cheek. The truth was, Chenle  _ did _ have a knack for romantic situations. Even here, in the dark, windows purple with impending twilight--  _ I should tell him. I should say it now. _ He kissed Chenle’s lips, arm looping hesitantly around his hips.

“What’s this?” Chenle whispered, clearly teasing as he bumped his nose gently against Jeno’s. “All this affection from the person who was worried about his boyfriend of six months seeing him naked? I feel honored.” Chenle stole one final kiss before pulling back and tugging lightly on Jeno’s hand: “Let’s go eat before everything gets cold! I don’t know if we’ll be able to reheat it again!”

The moment was lost, but that just made Jeno resolve to be more diligent when the next one came up.

The downstairs was illuminated by a few electric lanterns, one in the middle of the kitchen table to illuminate their meal. In the next room, Mr. Zhong prepared the fireplace, while Chenle’s mother poured the quickly cooling coffee into mugs for them. “I hope the weather doesn’t get too bad,” she remarked, looking out the window, where the wind was still whipping. “It’s supposed to be cold tonight.”

“That’s why I brought my human furnace along,” Chenle replied brightly, nudging Jeno with his leg as he added sugar to his coffee.

“Well, I didn’t expect to go anywhere without my second son, now, did I?” As she passed to join her husband in the living room, she touched Jeno’s shoulder affectionately, and he was once again reminded of how lucky he was. Not only was Chenle his perfect match, but his parents actually  _ liked _ Jeno. To Jeno’s delight, in the warm lantern light, he got to watch Chenle’s cheeks flush.

“She talks like we’re going to get married,” he mumbled, half a complaint, but he couldn’t keep from smiling as Jeno took his hand.

“Or like we’re brothers.”

“Okay,  _ ew. _ ”

“I mean, you make fun of me every other sentence. Which is 100% how I am with my real brother.”

“ _ Mom _ . I’m breaking up with Jeno. He’s gross!”

As soon as the fire was going, the chill was immediately taken out of the air. After eating, Jeno and Chenle settled in front of the fireplace with coffee and blankets; Jeno, indeed the human furnace, kept Chenle close against him, absently petting his hair. Before long, his parents had crept off to bed with one of the lanterns, and without their easy conversation in the background, the living room seemed too quiet.”

“Sorry that our vacation got kind of ruined,” Chenle spoke up suddenly, nuzzling against his shoulder. “We should have rescheduled everything, with the storm warning…”

“What are you talking about? Just like you said before, this is romantic,” Jeno encouraged, giving his boyfriend a squeeze. “You’re too good to me. For no real reason, either. I can never pay you back for all this stuff, you know…”

“Don’t say that! You’ve been playing with my hair for, like, forty-five minutes. You  _ know _ that’s pretty much my favorite thing ever, don’t you?” Chenle sighed contentedly, kissing Jeno’s jawline as he pulled the blankets closer around them both. “You spoil me with your attention. I feel like the luckiest guy in the world. Vacations, expensive stuff… that’s practically meaningless to me.  _ This _ is the type of thing that no one but you can give me…”

The realization made Jeno grin reflexively, and he turned to give Chenle a proper smooch. And then, with no anxiety or awkwardness or second thoughts, he whispered, “I love you so much.”   


It was hard to tell if it was the fire or the confession that made Chenle’s eyes and cheeks glow. “I love you, too. God, I really do… you know, I’ve been sort of wanting to tell you since our first kiss?”

“Our first kiss… on our first date! Chenle?!”

“I knew there was something special about you even then! You make me really happy! Hey, don’t shame me!”

“You’re so…  _ extra.” _ Jeno chuckled, but he didn’t protest as Chenle slipped easily into his lap, where he fit perfectly, with his arms around Jeno’s neck.

“Enough about that. More about how much you love and adore me, please.” Chenle grinned, and just like that, Jeno realized that his boyfriend was right, that Jeno truly  _ did _ have him a  _ little bit _ spoiled.


	25. Lucas/Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LUCAS/TEN - There were a lot of firsts for Yukhei and Chittaphon that year. First time to New York City, first snow, first time that Chittaphon truly felt that he'd be incomplete without another person.
> 
> Rated G, vague mentions of sex
> 
> THANK YOU for those who read these, left kudos and comments! It was way more work than I intended to do this December but I feel really good about it and extremely accomplished! (I'm also doing NCT Rarepair Winter Bingo so expect more winter stories until february!)

“Babe, wake up. It’s happening.”

Chittaphon glanced at the clock through bleary eyes. Not quite 8 AM. Why was Yukei  _ like _ this? Chittaphon loved him - loved him a  _ great _ deal, enough to leave Hong Kong and move halfway around the  _ world _ for him - and yet, some things, love wasn’t quite deep enough for. Waking up early on a day off, that was  _ right _ on the line. “Darling--” Chittaphon used the English word, softening the blow, because he usually reverted back to Mandarin or Thai in moments of frustration, “--I don’t have to work today. Did you remember that? It’s Saturday.”

“Just--  _ come here. _ ” Yukhei shook his shoulder again, and when Chittaphon didn’t budge, he sighed heavily. “I didn’t want to do this to you,” he said solemnly, slipping a strong arm beneath his boyfriend’s shoulders and another under his knees. Chittaphon whined in protest when he was lifted out of bed and set on his feet, but Yukhei only laughed softly. “Open your eyes. Promise, it’s worth it.”

Chittaphon loved Yukhei’s voice all the more when he could rest his ear on his chest and listen to him - he wrapped his arms around Yukhei’s waist and leaned against him reluctantly for a moment, savoring the sensation, the warmth, the scent of his skin. Then, obediently, he peeled his eyes open; Yukhei had placed him in front of the bedroom window, blinds open, sunrise lighting up the world behind the New York City skyline.

_ Snow. _ It was snowing, big fat flakes, the kind that Chittaphon had only seen on TV, in cartoons. Instantly, his reluctance to wake was gone, and he pulled back from Yukhei’s arms so that he could inspect the flakes landing on the other side of the glass. Down on the cars below, he could see the snow piling up in great drifts; in front of the dry cleaner across the street, there was a man shoveling in a big puffy coat. It was beautiful - and it was the thing Chittaphon had been looking most forward to, seeing snow in person. “It’s beautiful! Oh-- we should put on some clothes, so we can go outside.”

“Ha. I can tell you’re totally into it, since you’re  _ telling me _ to put on clothes. Usually you’re complaining that I’m wearing too many.” Yukhei slipped a sweater over his bare torso as he spoke, and Chittaphon, bare-ass naked, had to locate boxers, pants, a shirt,  _ and _ some socks.

“It’s cold outside!” Chittaphon rolled his eyes as he responded, sitting on the bed to put his socks on. “Don’t forget a coat, please?”

“Yes, Mom~” Yukhei got Chittaphon’s coat out of the closet as well, and when he came out of the bedroom to put his shoes on, Yukhei slipped a warm knit hat onto his head. “Wanna go up onto the roof? Climb up on my back, I’ll save you the trouble of the stairs.” It was standard practice, because Yukhei’s legs were long enough to take them three at a time. Chittaphon still felt silly as he climbed up and gripped his boyfriend’s shoulders, kissing the side of his head as thanks. This was one of the fun things about living in America: they might get some amused glances, acting like fools, but for most people, seeing their PDAs was far from the weirdest part of their day.

_ That’s the real reason we’re here, after all. No one back home accepted our love, our own parents couldn’t even do it. We came this far to find a home that wouldn’t make us feel wrong. _

The brisk morning air wiped out the thoughts plaguing Chittaphon when they emerged from the stairwell onto the roof of the apartment building. Six storeys above the street, the wind was formidable, but the flurry of snowflakes Yukhei brought him into was breathtakingly beautiful. Chittaphon’s boots crunched in the snow as he hopped down onto his feet, and he reached his hand out to catch some flakes and watch them melt. “You know, this is going to sound stupid, but… it’s colder than I thought it would be,” he admitted.

“It’s weird! Look, I didn’t understand how snowballs were made, but it’s so easy? You just-- crunch it together,” Yukhei grinned, pressing together a large handful of snow he’d gathered from the rooftop. His bare fingers were turning red from the cold, as were his cheeks and his nose, but his curiosity seemed to keep him from caring. He handed the ball to Chittaphon, who squeezed it tight and compressed it into a rigid ball of ice.

“Wow--  _ everything _ is covered in it,” Chittaphon marveled, looking over the safety railing at the roof’s edge. “We should go for a walk down to Central Park later, when it’s warm! Trees are pretty when they’re snowy.” He smiled, leaning a bit on the railing, all his sleepiness gone. “Thank you for waking me up, actually. You were right, the sunrise in the snow is worth it.”

Chittaphon turned around with the intention of kissing Yukhei, but when he looked up, his boyfriend wasn’t there - he had to look  _ down,  _ for Yukhei had dropped down to one knee. “Chittaphon, I know none of this has been easy, since we moved here, and I know you’ve given up a lot of comforts of home-- but I love you, and I love that we’re  _ here _ , of all places, and-- well, you know I’m not really the best at putting things into words, so I won’t get too sentimental, but… I want you to marry me, babe.” And then if that wasn’t enough, there was  _ actually a ring _ ; Chittaphon wasn’t sure how, since money was tight, but it was a thin silver band in a tiny blue ring box, set with a small but brilliantly cut diamond. It was perfect,  _ perfect _ \-- instantly, he was tearing up, just from the sheer bewilderment of it all.

“Yes, Yukhei--  _ yes _ , of course,  _ of course _ …” There seemed to be nothing to do except for affirm it, again and again, while hot tears streaked his cheeks and instantly froze, while snow settled in his messy black hair and his eyelashes - one look at him, and Yukhei stood with a grin, one knee of his sweatpants soaked through from kneeling.

“I didn’t think you were going to cry! Oh, I hope these are happy tears… even so, I don’t like to see you cry,” Yukhei insisted, pulling Chittaphon in close so that he could dry his cold face on the shoulder of Yukhei’s coat. Chittaphon did just that, feeling instantly safe, taken care of.

“There’s  _ no one _ I’d rather be with, Yukhei. I love you.”

Yukhei chuckled, the sound rumbling in his body, beneath Chittaphon’s cheek on his shoulder. “I love you, too. I’m going to keep working to prove it to you.” He ran his hand soothingly over Chittaphon’s hair. “You’re cold! Let’s go back downstairs. I’ll warm you up back in bed. I think it’s even too early for coffee.”

Chittaphon calmed himself with one last trembling inhale. “Yes. Bed sounds perfect,” he decided. “I’m really cold! You’re going to have to kiss me everywhere to warm me up!”

“ _ Everywhere _ , huh? Sounds like it will take awhile, but I guess it has to be done!” Yukhei laughed, helping Chittaphon back onto his back for the trip downstairs - raising him up tirelessly, like always, and making Chittaphon feel like perfect royalty.


End file.
